Abducted
by chimongra
Summary: While defending his Master, Ezra Bridger is abducted by the Empire. His crew cannot come to his aid immediately, as the fate of the Rebellion may very well hinge on their current mission. But leaving Ezra alone with the Inquisitor has its own risks... and only the Force knows their true extent.
1. Kink in the Plan

**Hey! This is my first Rebels fan-fic, so forgive me if things are a little off. The system isn't exactly what I thought it would be... but anyways. A lot of this story is pre-made, originally written before even 'Empire Day' was shown. Anything details from 'Empire Day' and beyond were not accounted into the storyline, so if a few facts don't match up, that's why. Otherwise, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Star Wars: Rebels... I'd probably just give it back to Disney. I'm too afraid I'd mess it up.**

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"_Damn it Kanan, I thought you said this would be easy! Just a standard delivery!_" Spectre 2's angry voice crackled through the Jedi's comm loud and clear as Hera voiced her displeasure at their current predicament. Kanan shot a discharge of energy out of his blaster before responding over the sounds of battle.

"That's what my contact said too! There shouldn't have been more than five bucket-heads here!" However, it was obvious there were _way_ more than five guards at the Imperial base. Nestled on an asteroid, the only use it was to the Empire was as a refueling station, but with the planet of Lothal almost within visual range, it was hardly used. Why there were over two legions at the nearly abandoned base was anyone's guess.

A blast of red energy collided with the crate in front of him, and Kanan returned the favor to the soldier who'd shot it. He hadn't needed to, though, as a ball of yellow energy took out the stormtrooper before Kanan had even shot his weapon. He glanced over at his right, towards the origin of the ball: Ezra.

He'd been Kanan's apprentice for a year and a half now. They still had yet to get him a lightsaber. His own was still clipped to his belt, as their situation was not yet dire enough for him to pull it out. However, if things progressed in the way they were currently heading, the need for the energy blade may become more urgent. Ezra, however, was doing well. His navy hair was swinging to and fro, matching the teen's dashes that successfully took him out of the incoming bullet's range. He didn't have a blaster, as he wasn't a fighting-type member of their crew, and because a blaster would mostly interfere with his sneaky in-and-out roles to play in their missions. However, he was firing ball after ball of energy from his arm sling, distracting the troopers long enough to allow either him or Zeb to finish them off.

The Lasat, while not able to bash their enemies's heads in personally, was still firing shot after shot, a look of fierce, feral enjoyment etched onto his purple features. His rifle added a lower pitched tone to the battle, a steady rhythm that sounded injury to the other side with every blast.

A roar sounded as the _Ghost_ streaked above them, firing down at the enemy while being pursued by six Ties. Kanan had to hand it to Hera, she was a mean pilot when needed. She neatly evaded the green shots her pursuers fired out, while Sabine fired out at them from the back. Kanan was very glad he'd allowed the Mandalorian to stay aboard the ship. Without Sabine adding constant fire to the Ties to keep them occupied, Kanan felt sure they'd come down and attack the three members of the _Ghost_ crew stranded on the ground.

A cry sounded out from the bucket-heads in front of them, bringing Kanan's attention to the battle at hand. Hera and Sabine could take care of themselves, he would just have to trust in the Force that they could as well. Looking straight ahead at the battle, Kanan witnessed another trooper fall down, twitching slightly. Another victim to Ezra's sling.

With the aid of the Force, the boy had been able to increase his aim even more, to the point of him being able to shoot between the cracks on the bucket- heads armor, straight to the fleshy soldier underneath. Combined with the reflexes and aim he'd picked up fending for himself as a child, Ezra made for an excellent fighter.

This was one of the reasons Kanan had held back on giving his Padawan a lightsaber.

Kanan was scared. Scared that with the addition of a laser-blade, Ezra would become attached to fighting. Yes, they all wanted to take a bight out of the Empire. Ezra even more so, with the deaths of his parents and his forced life on the streets. But Kanan was scared that every time they fought a battle, the young teen might be driven closer to the Dark side. That because of his past, Ezra would give in to his anger and fear, let the Dark pull him into it's deadly embrace. He feared that with the addition of a better weapon, Ezra would become engrossed with the fights, and that the lure of evil would grow stronger on his apprentice. Kanan knew exactly how that felt.

When Order 66 had come, and the Clones betrayed their generals and burned down their temples, Kanan had been tantalizingly close to letting his hatred take control of him, to exact revenge on those who had betrayed him and his Order. But he had not. He had resisted the call of the Dark, had meditated and consoled with the Force. The only reason Kanan had been, was, able to continue his rebellion against the Empire without turning was because he was a Jedi. He'd grown up suppressing emotions, learning to tuck them away-no, to get rid of them. This was the Jedi way. But Ezra? He'd grown up on his anger and fear, using them to survive. Kanan wouldn't be surprised if he was using them even now.

So, Kanan had waited. He wanted to train with Ezra even further, to make sure his apprentice would never fall to the lies of the Dark.

"Nice one, kid!" Zeb yelled out over the sounds of battle, firing more bolts. Ezra turned to grin at the Lasat, also continuing to fire. Kanan once again turned his attention to the troopers.

As much as the rebels jibed the stormtroopers, they were still deadly efficient in combat. Looking closely at the battle-field, Kanan realized they had dragged the boxes into strategic positions, allowing the soldiers to advance slowly towards the three Spectres. With grim realization, Kanan saw they'd eventually be pushed into a street.

The old base was designed with ship's landing and taking off in mind, so there were two ports on the base. They were currently at the lower port, which had two storage buildings behind it, connected by an overhang. This left a street sized gap between them. Farther down that path and to the left was the second landing pad, with the rest of the buildings either above or to the right of the road.

With a huge explosion, two Ties crashed above their heads, showering both sides of the battle with debris. Hera's flying skills had once again proved themselves.

A surge of hope crashing through him, Kanan formed a plan in his head.

"Ezra!" He shouted out to the teen, still focusing on the battle at hand. An affirmative shout showed he was listening, so Kanan continued. "Give me some cover! I've got a plan!" Ezra nodded his assent, and Kanan heard his Padawan yell out to Zeb. Immediately after, Kanan saw the yellow energy balls flying towards the soldiers in front of him. Trusting in his apprentice to keep him safe, Kanan sank down below his crate, resting his back on it, and closed his eyes.

Almost as soon as his eyes had closed, the noises of battle faded. A sense of peace stole over the man, as Kanan connected to the Force around him. Stretching out with tendrils, Kanan searched for the Ties and the pilots within them. With them moving around as fast as they were, this was no easy task. Preparing for almost complete detachment from the real world, Kanan submerged himself deeper into the Force.

He could feel himself, a small ebb in the ever flowing currents of the Force. He could feel Ezra, the Padawan concentrating hard to not only defend himself, but Kanan as well. He could feel Zeb's enjoyment at felling soldier after soldier. He could feel Hera's determination to successfully fly away from their foes. He could feel Sabine relying on Spectre 2 to fly her within firing range of the Ties. And... and he could feel the pilots. Kanan would have felt relief upon locating the Ties so quickly, but as deeply buried in the Force as he was, he only felt serenity.

Giving the pilot's concentration a nudge with the Force, Kanan was rewarded with the dim noise of a crash, as though from underwater, as the pilot he'd been focusing on crashed into the side of the asteroid. Kanan felt his team's unbalance, but felt nothing himself. Either because he was disturbed by his friend's crash or Sabine had shot him,another pilot's Tie swiveled out of control. Kanan began searching for the other two pilots, aided by the _Ghost_. Hera, knowing a limited amount of the Force, knew enough to provide Kanan with a constant anchor. Attached to her life-signature, Kanan was able to slowly expand from her moving position to find the Ties that darted around her ship. Within another minute, only one Tie remained.

However, before Kanan could hunt down the remaining enemy ship, a jolt of fear and pain from his Padawan brought Kanan out of his trance. Opening his eyes, the sounds of battle once again engulfed the Jedi. Turning slightly to his left, Kanan didn't have to look hard to find what had caused Ezra distress. One of the stormtroopers had found his mark. The teen was clutching his upper left arm, a singed patch of cloth showing where the soldiers' blaster had finally connected.

Worry colored Kanan's thoughts. Ezra's wound was not life-threatening, far from it. However, the pain it would be causing him would cloud Ezra's connection with the Force, causing his aim to deteriorate. They had to resolve this fight, and quickly too.

"Spectre 1 to _Ghost_, can you shake off that last Tie?" Kanan asked into his comm link, resuming his barrage of blaster bolts at the stormtroopers in front of them. The sound of an exploding ship above them answered his question. "I need you to sweep the enemy with a few lasers, Ezra's injured." As expected, Hera cried out, her voice laced with worry.

"_How bad is it?!_" Kanan already had his answer prepared as he shot another trooper down. "It's okay, just an arm shot. But we need to get out of here fast." However, Hera's response was not expected.

"_Spectre 1, I'm sorry, but Chopper's picked up the signatures of two more incoming Ties and one larger vessel. Head to the second landing pad, we'll try to do a fast pick up before they arrive._" Hera's voice was calm, but there was a certain tightness to it that told Kanan she was tense and worried. "Copy Spectre 2. See you soon." He tried to make his own voice light and casual, but the Twi'lek had known Kanan for a long time. He was sure she heard the underlying worry that spiked his words, and as the comm grew silent once more, Kanan unsuccessfully tried to lay his thoughts to rest.

The sensors on the _Ghost_ had a long range. However, in their last run, a scuffle with the Empire had cut their range down to a fourth of what it once was. If they had just now noticed the ship's coming in, they would only have seconds-maybe a minute- for the _Ghost_ to land, pick up it's passengers, and fly away before they arrived.

Shooting out a spike of thought towards his apprentice to get his attention, Kanan motioned with his hands for them to start heading backwards and into the buildings. Ezra nodded, hair bobbing up and down as he did, and he relayed the message to Zeb.

Quickly, the three darted from crate to crate, steadily moving towards the second launching pads. Realizing their intentions, the stormtroopers followed suit, and they all progressed towards the top of the base. However, they hadn't moved quick enough.

They were only half of the way there when Kanan saw them. Two Ties flying on the sides of a larger transport vessel. Inside the bigger ship was most probably re-enforcements, which did not bode well for them.

How had this happened? The mission was a simple one: fly down, kill the (supposedly) sparse guards, load the fuel, food and weapons they found, and deliver them to Alderaan, the secret center of the rebellion. The weapons and equipment were a major necessity to the rebellion, which was why this mission _had_ to go well. But instead, this had happened. Could it have been a trap? No, the contact was a trusted one. Had someone else betrayed them? Was there someone on Alderaan who knew of it's importance, and sided with the Empire? Kanan's worries spiraled through his head, until he was jolted out of his musings by a large 'thud'. The enemy ship had landed. The two Ties escorting it flew in, heading in to battle with the _Ghost._

Worry once again knotted itself in Kanan's stomach. He soon found out it had a rightful place there, as no less than ten troopers marched out of the transport. They were joined by Commander Kallus. As one, the unit dove into the fray, giving more fighting power to the Imperials. Kanan heard Zeb's growl of anger as he saw Kallus waving his staff high in the air threateningly, twirling it in a mocking fashion. Over the sounds of battle, Kanan heard the officer taunt Zeb: "Is something the matter, monkey boy?" Before Zeb could leap forward, Ezra stopped him with his uninjured arm. "Zeb no! We have to get back to the ship before-"

But the rest of the teen's sentence was cut off as he felt a wave of power shoot through them. Kanan felt it as well, and turned to look at his apprentice. Mingled worry and fear shone in Ezra's electric blue eyes, which Kanan was sure reflected in his own. As one, they turned to face the transport ship, aware now of what exactly who else was on board it.

Slowly, the Inquisitor stepped down the ramp, yellow eyes glinting in the blaster-fire. His pointed teeth were bared, and his crimson lightsaber was ablaze, rotating quickly. Kanan straightened from his crouched position, ignoring the hail of blaster fire around him. There was no need for contemplation. Kanan would definitely need to un-sheath his lightsaber for this battle.

"Master, we don't have time!" Ezra's shout reached Kanan, and he quickly glanced over to the boy, giving him a brief, tight smile.

"I'm not as thick headed as you are, I'm only going to be holding him off until Hera and Sabine finish with those Ties." It was a mark on how grave their situation was that Ezra did not complain about Kanan's comment, only nodded. He released Zeb, and the pair resumed their backwards retreat, still firing at the oncoming soldiers. Kanan took a deep breath as he assembled his lightsaber. Deflecting the few bolts that passed his way, Kanan advanced slowly towards the Inquisitor, even as the Pau'an was doing the same. With the two buildings on either side of him, Kanan knew this was definitely not the ideal place to fight a lightsaber battle. However, this was the only way for Kanan to ensure the Inquisitor would't go after Ezra, as he had done in the past, or focus his attention on the _Ghost_ and her crew.

Besides, knowing both Hera and Sabine, it would only take a few more minutes for the duo to despise of the Ties.


	2. Separation

**Disclaimer: I do not own Disney, or Star Wars: Rebels, etc... though if I did, I'd probably just give it back.**

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Ezra was no stranger to fear. He'd practically grown up with it. But this was something different, something that sent chills into the young boy's heart. Yeah, he was afraid of the Inquisitor, there was no denying that. The Pau'an possessed a terrifying, hunter- like presence that made Ezra want to run away as far as he could. But that was manageable. He could escape the Inquisitor, escape his presence and sight. But this? This fear was different.

Ezra was afraid for Kanan. So far, in all their encounters, the Inquisitor had proven he was more than a match for his Master. A drawn out battle with him could only end one way. This fear that Ezra possessed could not be escaped. He could not run away from it. This was a fear inside of his head, and no matter where he ran, it would all ways be there with him. He feared for his teacher's life, and that would't change, no matter how far away Ezra ran. He had respect for his Master, and an attachment that he couldn't deny. Over the months they had been together, Kanan had shown Ezra what it was like to have real bonds. Almost as though they were his family.

Ezra knew he would do whatever it took to protect his new family bonds.

"Kid, come on! We can get in some shots at the Ties from over there!" Zeb pulled Ezra's mind from his teacher, and the navy-haired youth spun around to see exactly where the Lasat was indicating.

A single purple finger was pointing at the top of the building to their right. Ezra saw there were plenty of handholds for the Lasat to climb up and take aim at the enemy ships. Before the Imperials had sprung, they had actually managed to reach the weapons, and Zeb had immediately grabbed the biggest gun in there. Looking more closely at it, Ezra recognized the form of a T-7 Ion Disrupter. Now he understood why the Lasat had refrained from using it in close quarters with the stormtroopers. It would've torn them apart.

However, Ezra could see his friend had no qualms whatsoever about using the deadly weapon on the Ties that were chasing after the _Ghost_.

"Spectre 6 to _Ghost_: bring the ship closer to Spectre 4. We have a surprise for those bucket-heads." Ezra spoke into his commlink, left arm limp beside him. It was still movable, but painfully so.

Zeb jumped onto the wall of the building, and began climbing up it. Ezra lifted his arm slowly, and resumed his barrage of energy towards the stormtroopers advancing on them. Kanan was still holding up against the Inquisitor, and it seemed the troops around them ignored the Force-user's battle, instead focusing on the two Spectres ahead of them. Whether or not they were doing so on the Inquisitor's orders or not, Ezra wasn't sure.

"Kid?! You coming or what?" Zeb had reached the top of the building, and was in the process of setting up his gun. Ezra gave him a look of incredulity, and gestured to the singed portion of his arm. "You think I'm gonna be climbing anything with this?!" A portion of Ezra's personality had worked it's way through his mask of fear. The Lasat grunted, then resumed his unpacking.

"Just don't die down there; I don't wanna haf'ta drag you back." Ezra shook his head and returned his focus on the oncoming soldiers.

An explosion sounded above, and Ezra saw that Zeb had hit his mark. A Tie was streaking down to the ground, smoke trailing out of it. With a jolt of fear, the young teen saw that it was headed straight towards the overhang his Master was currently dueling under. As though in slow motion, the Tie connected with the thin structure. It exploded upon impact, sending out a shock wave that even reached Ezra. Cracks appeared on the bottom of the overhang, although it thankfully did not cave in.

But the collision had done it's damage. As Kanan and the Inquisitor had been directly underneath the overhang, the shock wave had been stronger there, successfully knocking both combatants to the ground. The Inquisitor had been knocked back in the direction of his ship, while Kanan had merely been blown over. Relief flooded through Ezra, but it was only temporary.

The Inquisitor was already moving to get up from his position. Kanan was not.

Seeing this weakness, the Pau'an stretched out a hand, pointing it towards the crumbling overhang. Ezra recognized his stance. He was trying to bring it down on top of his unconscious Master. With horror in his eyes, Ezra watched as the Inquisitor made a downwards gesture with his hand, face bared in a feral grin. There was a trickle of blood going down the right side of his face, only adding to his predator-like visage.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Ezra threw out his own hands, ignoring the pain in his left.

With a surge of emotions, Ezra sent out a Force-wave so powerful it sent out a shock wave all around him, knocking down not only the oncoming stormtroopers, but Zeb, the Inquisitor, and the remaining Tie as well. It crashed somewhere behind him, but Ezra was concentrating too hard to care.

The rubble of the overhang that would've fallen on top of Kanan was suspended in mid-air, pebbles raining down. Almost instantly Ezra felt the effects of holding such massive objects through the Force. He was concentrating so hard, if he moved even in the slightest, the whole thing would collapse, rendering his attempt useless. Aware of the situation he was in, as well as the fact that the enemy wasn't going to be down for long, Ezra shouted out.

"Zeb!" The pile wobbled downwards dangerously. "ZEB!" The Lasat stirred on top of the building, turning his focus to the smallest Spectre of their crew. What he saw was Ezra, the boy he had grown rather fond of, pinching his face in a look of utmost concentration. Blood dripped down from where the blaster bullet had made contact, which was odd. Due to the energetic nature of the projectiles, they automatically cauterized whatever wound they left behind. _He must have torn the flesh open when he used the Force..._

Putting aside his worries for Ezra, the Lasat jumped down from his perch on the building. He had no use being there anymore, the last Tie was down. He ran over to the blue haired kid, coming close as to allow Ezra to focus more by not shouting.

"...Kanan...get...out..." Droplets of sweat trickled down his face, and the pile of rubble sank even lower as Ezra relayed his brief message to his friend. The Lasat grunted, immediately turning and running towards Kanan. Grateful that was all it took for his message to get across, and that Zeb knew enough not to distract him with conversation, Ezra turned all of his focus to the ever threatening overhang. Zeb knew better than to waste time by picking his way across the troopers littered around the square, some of them could have survived the Force blast Ezra had sent out. He might not have the best understanding of the Force, but he knew enough to allow Ezra to do his utmost best.

Pain spiked through Ezra's left arm, and more blood fell down onto the ground. Noticing the overhang dip and dislodge part of a wall down below, the Padawan ignored his arm. It would serve it's purpose until he didn't need it. Until then, all Ezra had to do was keep the floating pile of rocks and debris afloat.

Sweat rolled out under Ezra's brow, and he was painfully aware that he'd never been able to lift something like this before. He'd never been able to concentrate hard enough, usually only lasting a second or two. Now, with the added pressure of Kanan's life, he guessed he'd be able to hold it up for a lot longer than that.

If he could hold up long enough.

Zeb reached Kanan at the same time that the Inquisitor began to stir, only now awakening from the push Ezra had un-intentionally sent out. How long ago had that been? No. No distractions. Kanan. Zeb was bringing him out now. The Inquisitor was getting to his feet. He was impossibly aware at how heavy the overhang was. If he could time it right, he'd be able to crush the Pau'an-

Plans were pushed out of Ezra's mind as the rocks lurched downwards a couple of feet. _Just trust in the Force, Ezra. Kanan all ways told you, trust in the Force..._ Zeb was out from under the rocks, running with Kanan draped over his back. With a jarring roar, the _Ghost_ flew in above them, to Zeb's right. Ezra was still a ways away from it, but that didn't stop the teen from letting loose a huge grin as he finally allowed himself to release the huge load he'd been carrying.

"Come on kid! The Inquisitor isn't gonna be long in comin'!" Zeb shouted out to Ezra, running towards the _Ghost_'s ramp, Kanan swinging wildly down his back.

Ezra opened his mouth to reply, glad he could finally do so without sweating buckets in concentration. But the words never got out of his mouth.

Within a few milliseconds, agonizing electrical pain coursed through every nerve in Ezra's body. Instead of a cheerful, if hurried, reply to Zeb, only screams came out. It only lasted for a few seconds, but at the end of it Ezra found himself only semi-conscious and curled up on the ground.

Dim shouts sounded around him, and Ezra was aware of a purple blob standing still on the ramp of a loud grey ship. _Zeb..._Ghost_... _Ezra was only partially aware he knew what he was thinking. Not at all gently, Ezra felt himself pulled up off of the ground. A crushing force placed itself on his neck, disorienting him even further. Something small, circular, and metal pushed itself against his temple. The purple blob shouted.

_Zeb...pain..._ A small portion in the back of Ezra's mind was struggling to produce concerned thoughts to the rest of his groggy nerves, desperately striving to relay panic to the rest of his senses. Roars sounded, and Ezra saw, with difficulty, small black ships flying around._.._Ghost_..._

_Danger...escape..._Ghost_...Zeb...Danger...bonds...Kanan...KANAN!_

Without needing further prompting, Ezra snapped back into focus. At least ten Tie-fighters were circling around the _Ghost_, firing deadly green lasers and dodging the _Ghost_'s own. The purple blob was Zeb, desperately yelling for Ezra. The teen looked down at his feet, and confirmed what he had suspected: a small stunner in the shape of a round ball. It had probably been delivered by some Imperial while Ezra had been concentrating. Looking upwards, he saw that the arm blocking his airways belonged to none other than Commander Kallus. With understanding, Ezra replayed the new sequence in his head: he'd sent out a Force wave, knocking over every one but Kallus. The commander must've snuck behind and around the buildings until he came to the back of the apprentice, then took his chance to stun him.

He was caught.

One of the Ties hit a sweet spot on the landed _Ghost_, and Ezra saw the ship shudder. She had strong shields, but with the continued barrage of ten Ties on her, Ezra doubted Hera would be able to control her much longer. Realization hit him. Hera and Sabine didn't know Kallus had Ezra. They couldn't see him. Only Zeb knew, and he was the reason the _Ghost_ was yet to be in air, as he hadn't closed the ramp yet.

There was no way he'd be able to get there in time for the _Ghost_ to have a successful take off and fly away. What was more, a red glow from the pile if rubble he'd just dropped told him the Inquisitor would be coming back soon. There was no way out of this. Except...

"Zeb! Zeb, go!" Surprise twisted the Lasat's features, mingling with the fear and worry already there. But before he could give out a thundering 'no!' and demand Ezra's freedom from Kallus, the youth continued, aware he'd be unconscious soon from lack of air. "Zeb go! Kanan's more important than I am! You all are! I'm not letting me be the reason you all die! GO!" with his last word, Ezra sent out a weak push in the Force that caused Kallus to stumble slightly, and Zeb to go further up the ramp.

With one last look of desperation, Zeb shouted out to him: "Don't you dare think of dying, Ezra! We'll be back for you!" And then he was gone, the ramp of the _Ghost_ ascending as the pilot took her leave. It was only with a small twinge of regret that Ezra watched it soar of into the distance, as most of what he was feeling was pride at not sacrificing his family for himself. Long ago he would've done that. Now he would never.

But his self-pride faded almost immediately as the Inquisitor stepped out from the rubble, having successfully cut his way through it. Ezra glanced back at the sky, watching the _Ghost_ and the Ties disappear, but now with a sense of foreboding.

_You_ _better get me soon, guys. Otherwise... I don't know how long I'll last._

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**Just to clear up any confusion: the little 'stunner' was similar to the droid poppers that were used in the Clone Wars. It is in no way my original idea; I'm actually pretty sure there are a few other stories using them as well.**


	3. Joyous Escape?

**Disclaimer: Disney owns Star Wars: Rebels. Not me.**

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Hera dragged the sluggish yoke to the left, narrowly dodging a small asteroid. The Twi'lek smiled as she heard a crash behind her, signaling death to yet another Imperial agent. They could use all the help they could get, especially with Chopper running to and fro, unable to plot hyperspace coordinates due to all the repairs they had yet to do. Hera was immensely grateful that the landing party had gotten back when they did; the _Ghost_ wouldn't have lasted another second if they hadn't taken off.

Hera didn't know what had delayed her crew so long, but whatever it was, she would be sure to reprimand them all later. If they survived the next couple of minutes.

Her ship's comm crackled to life, and Sabine's voice spoke out: "_Hera, do you know if Kanan's gonna be joining us in, you know,_ _making sure we're not blown up?__ Only-_" there was a distant explosion, showing the girl was still firing "_-I reckon this'll go a _lot_ smoother if he was here helping_." Hera swung the ship violently to the right, dodging a bright green laser. "Sabine, he'll come when he can. Right now-" the ship shuddered violently-"you'll have to do the best you can without him." When the teen answered, it was with a grim tone. "_Roger that._"

A series of bleeps and whistles from behind Hera told her Chopper had finished repairing the extensive damage to the shields to the best of his ability. While the rest of the crew could barely get his meaning without crude arm movements, Hera could understand the droid almost perfectly. She had, after all, built the darned thing.

"Focus on the hyper-space engine next, Chop. For now Sabine's gun will have to do, but we need to get out of here!" A squeal showed his enthusiastic agreement, and the little droid scurried towards the panel, wheels moving him as fast as they could.

Even though she hadn't relayed it to Sabine, the green woman was slightly annoyed now. Kanan knew better than to dawdle, he should've joined Sabine at the guns as soon as he got onboard. Hadn't he _seen_ the Ties swirling around her precious ship? Even if he had something else to do, wouldn't he have contacted her first? Worry knotted in her stomach. He did say Ezra was injured... had her lied to her about the damage done so she wouldn't lose concentration? No, she'd known him for too long. She could tell when he was lying immediately. So what was keeping him? The comm once again crackled to life, but another jolt of worry shot itself into her stomach as the screens in front of her said that it was not coming from either gunning station. It was from the med-bay.

"What took you so long?!" Hera could tell worry was laced into her speech, but she didn't care. Either Ezra was injured badly, or there was something wrong with Kanan. Neither one boded well for her concentration on the ongoing battle.  
However, it wasn't Kanan's voice the spoke out to her with comforting words. It was Zeb's. And they weren't exactly words of comfort.

"_Sorry, Hera. Had to get Kanan in the bay-_" Hera cut the Lasat off as she spied something else mingling with the blasts fired at her ship. "Is he alright!?" Zeb growled, slightly annoyed, but continued on none the less. "_Fine, just took a rock to the head,'s all. Bu-"_ Hera once again cut him off as she recognized what had been fired at them.

"Fill me in later, Zeb, we got missiles on us. Get in the gunner's seat and do something useful!" For there were missiles heading in their direction, most presumably fired by the two newer looking models of Ties pursuing them. Energy pulses were one thing, the shields could take care of them. But missiles? If Hera wasn't careful, they'd all have a lot more to worry about than Kanan. One of those could take out a huge chunk of the hull, leaving them with little to no atmosphere left above the _Ghost_.

"Chopper, we're gonna need that hyper-space NOW!" The little droid gave out yells, voicing that he was doing as best he could. But right now, with at least seven Ties, two of which carried missiles, chasing her down, Hera couldn't care less about his complaints. Sabine yelled through her comm.

"_How long until we can get outa here!?_" Hera was guessing she'd noticed the missiles as well. She was about to give her hurried response when something happened that stunned the Twi'lek speechless. A Tie fighter flew _directly in front of_ the_ Ghost_.

_WHAT?!_

Hera knew the Empire trained it's soldiers to strike their target no matter what. But this pilot was showing that example to the extreme. If Hera didn't have the reflexes and skills that she did, the _Ghost_ would've barrel straight into the Tie, not only taking out their bridge, but the entirety of the Imperial vessel. Yes, it would have taken out the_ Ghost'_s maneuvering ability, but still... it would also have taken that pilot's life...

As it was, Hera was too good for the trooper, and immediately veered up and over the small ship, as well as temporarily out of range from the other Ties. Bleeps from Chopper lifted her spirit, however, and with a gleeful shout, she pulled the lever backwards that symbolized their freedom into hyper-space. Hera flopped back into her chair, letting loose a huge knot of tension that had gathered. A huge sigh escaped the Twi'lek's mouth as she listened to Sabine's triumphant shout, echoing not only through the still open comm, but also through the metal hallways. Zeb was strangely not joining her, which Hera could sort of understand, as he was slightly more mature than Sabine. _Slightly_.

But what struck her as odd was that Ezra's shouts of glee were absent. It was not like the teen to hold back on his jubilation, as he had not yet mastered _that_ aspect of his Jedi training. Concerned once more, Hera gave Chopper instructions to repair the ship as best as he could, and headed down to the _Ghost_'s med-bay. Again, the possibility of Kanan lying to her about the severity of Ezra's wound entered into her head, and was once again immediately discarded. Ezra could just simply be at his master's side, unwilling to let the elder Jedi on his own. Still, his silence was un-nerving...

Zeb came out of the gunner's hatch, shaking his massive head. She swore she saw him slightly trembling, and realized she was as well. The stress of battles such as these was tense for all of them, but Hera guessed that this time, she'd been overly worried. Well, who wouldn't have been, when there had been almost little to no chance of their survival?  
As of yet, Sabine and Ezra were still perfectly content with taking out chunks of the Empire, doing their best to take care of their own lives, and the lives of their family aboard the ship. Zeb, she guessed, had his trust that kept him from questioning the members of his crew as to the exact nature of their runs.

That and his love of bashing in bucket-heads.

Hera passed by the Lasat, giving him a nod of congratulations as she passed. She had more important things to do than chat up her crew in the hallway. Well, more important people to see, really. Kanan, from what Zeb had been able to tell her before she had cut him off, was lying unconscious in the infirmary, Ezra most likely by his side, tending to his own wounds. Neither of them were adequate workers in the healing side of things, Force related or otherwise. Hera- being the mother hen that she was -would not allow any injury to escape her sight or care. Leaving Zeb to deal with the hyper-active girl that was Sabine, Hera rushed over to the med-bay, lekku swinging wildly behind her.

The doors opened with a low 'swish,' and the Twi'lek rushed over to the non-moving form of Spectre 1. The Jedi was sleeping peacefully, nothing askew about his appearance more than a thin trickle of blood running from his temple to chin, losing itself in his thin goatee. But other than that, the only thing wrong with him was that he was unconscious, which would, of course, right itself out naturally.

Hera gave a sigh of relief, letting the painful knot of worry in her stomach loosen slightly. But something was still wrong. Where was Ezra? If not with his Master, or in the gunner's position with Sabine, then maybe in his room? But Hera couldn't see the teen being thick-headed enough to leave without first treating his injured arm.

Well... maybe she could.

The med- bay door swooshed open behind her, and Hera turned to see Sabine enter the room, a huge smile lightening up her colored face. Apparently adrenaline was still rushing through her system, because the young girl couldn't seem to stand still. She was followed by what looked by an annoyed Zeb, who duck slightly to fit through the too-small door.

"Did you SEE those bucket-heads explode! It was BEAUTIFUL!" Her form of excitement seemed contagious, Hera could feel a smile creeping up on her green lips. Zeb alone seemed un-enthusiastic about their narrow escape.

Hera pinned him down with her stare of enforcement. Whenever there was a secret among the crew, she'd use this to make them 'spill it.' Nothing escaped her, especially not on her own ship. Sabine seemed to notice the Twi'lek's demand for the truth, because she flopped down on the bench besides Kanan and looked at Zeb, a huge smile still on her face.

"I assume you're about to tell us what took you three so long down on the base?" Hera raised an eyebrow at the Lasat, prompting him to answer her. And truthfully.

The big man sighed and rubbed his face with both hands. "Yea. It... we... Oh, Hera, it was-"

"Ezra..." Kanan spoke out behind them, and as they turned to see why he'd interrupted Zeb, the three Spectres all blinked in astonishment at the lone tear running down his face.


	4. Potential

**For any strict fans and other knowledgeable readers: I am aware the Inquisitor is not an actual Sith. The only two true Sith are Sideous and Vader, I know. However, the Inquisitor, in this chapter, _sees_ himself as one, so towards the end there is himself calling himself a Sith. It's just from his point of view, not actual truth. Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: The Rebels T.V. series belongs to Disney. I doubt they'd let a school-student have control of it anyways.**

* * *

The Inquisitor looked down at the unconscious boy commander Kallus had un-ceremoniously dropped on the ground. His navy hair had flopped over to the right side of his face, so that he was partially covered by thin strands. The Pau'an stared. Had the capture been too easy? Usually the boy would still be aboard that worthless ship he coveted, along with the crew that selfishly protected him...

No matter. The Force had delivered to the Inquisitor what was needed of him to continue on the Sith line: a potential apprentice. All he had to do was break the boy, break him and temper him into something purer, fresher, better... more powerful. Once that had been done, the Inquisitor could take his rightful place at the right hand of the Emperor, of Darth Sideous. Vader's time had come to an end. He may be the remnants of the most powerful Jedi ever to stalk the land, but he was nothing more than that: remnants. The only thing keeping him alive was his suit, which limited his movement and force-capabilities.

Yes, the Emperor had selected him from the Jedi, selected the glorious "Chosen One" to accompany him as the apprentice to the Sith... and he had succeeded in doing so. But then it had gone wrong. One battle at Mustafar, and the blasted 'hero' had gotten himself very nearly killed, nothing more than a carcass climbing up the shore. At this point his Master was merely being kept alive by the Emperor for show.

But what was the use for a puppet that had to have it's inner organs manipulated as well? What point was there in having a dark suit of armor, if it highlighted the individual's weakness? Vader was nothing more than an image, a figurine to scare the people into behaving.

But the Inquisitor could be so much more. So...much..._more_... All he had to do was obtain an apprentice. Secure the power necessary to complete his own destiny, to secure his victory in a grasp of iron. The Pau'an smiled a wicked smile, pointed teeth glowing in the red light his lightsaber radiated. The young Padawan would be part in something grand, oh yes. The Inquisitor could hardly wait for the day he could call the young boy 'his' and fulfill that destiny which awaited him.

"Well, that went smoothly enough." Commander Kallus straightened up, dusting off his uniform. "Their vessel is attempting to escape. What should I command my men to do with them?" The Pau'an looked at the sky, towards the small speck that had been the boy's home, where his so called 'family' was aboard.

"Use any means necessary to dispose of them. Missiles, pattern S.E... whatever it takes." Kallus blanched. "Pattern S.E., sir?" The Pau'an glared down at him, menace laced in his gaze.

"Yes, commander, must I repeat myself?" The agent shook his head slowly, then walked away, pulling out his comm as he did so. The Inquisitor looked back up at the sky.

Pattern S.E. was a suicide pattern almost always yielding the desired result: disablement of enemy ships. Well, how could it not, when the pilot flew straight into the bridge of the desired target? The Inquisitor, unlike commander Kallus, had no qualms about ordering his men to use it. After all, what was a few Tie Pilot's lives if it meant no one would be coming for the future apprentice of the Sith?

The Inquisitor knew exactly how spirited the youth was. It could take a while to break him. A while that could be punctuated by rescue attempts made by the rebels, which would no doubt be trying to take him back. Even if they did not succeed, their attempts would arouse hope in the boy, which would get in the way of his breaking... No, the Inquisitor did not care for the lives of stormtroopers insignificant to the Force. They were merely fluff that could be used to soften the injuries sustained by the... rebellion... of the people. Nothing more than padding, to be used and thrown away.

But this boy, this boy was different. Special, even. He had a place in the Force that he belonged to. A role to play. The Inquisitor knew that, and was determined to be a part of that role. Whatever this boy would do, it would be great, and bring about a change in the Empire, one that made power ripple through the Inquisitor like water through the soil...

The boy stirred on the ground, and a single blue eye opened. Once more showing his pointed teeth, the Sith apprentice-no..._Lord_, now,- pointed a gloved hand towards the teen. His breaking would begin now.

The boy screamed as the Inquisitor buffeted the child with raw Force power, and he laughed mercilessly. He could feel his new apprentice's pain in the Force, echoing out through it's vastness, looking for something to latch on to to stop it. But the Inquisitor would make sure he had nothing to grasp onto. No one to help him.

He would enjoy breaking this child.


	5. Rescue Not Yet Available

**Sorry if this isn't as exciting a chapter, but I really needed to get across that the crew of the _Ghost_ can't yet try and rescue Ezra. So... boring, but necessary. Peace!**

**Disclamer: Star Wars: Rebels is not mine. Though it'd be nice if it was...**

* * *

The four Spectres sat in silence. Ezra was...he was...

Kanan closed his eyes, not willing to let his crew see how much this had shaken him. It was his fault, all Kanan's fault, that Ezra was gone. He hadn't been strong enough. Fast enough. Good enough. If he'd only seen the incoming Tie! Kanan himself could've held onto the overhang, he could've gotten them all out of there safely, he could've prevented Ezra from... _from feeling this pain..._

Even though they were light-years from his Padawan, Kanan had felt his pain. That was what had woken him up, momentarily seeing nothing but the Inquisitor's face lit by his lightsaber. He'd been awoken by hurt that did not belong to him. That could've been stopped by him. Now that the Jedi was awake, he could no longer feel Ezra's suffering as he had, but a small module of fear was present in the Force that wasn't his.

Their silence was broken by bleeps and whistles calling through the _Ghost_'s ship-wide communicator. Hera blinked, as she was the only one who really understood Chopper's eccentric speech, and stirred. "Ch-Chop's fixed up the ship's systems as best he can." The crew made no move to show they understood.

"We..." the Twi'lek bent down her head, and Kanan knew she was also hiding weakness from her crew. Zeb spoke up, allowing Hera time to recover on her own. "We have to go get him." This was the part Kanan had been dreading. A deep breath from Hera told the Jedi that she was as well. Sabine leaped up off of the med-bay bench to agree with the Lasat.

"We can have the ship's system's repaired in no time if we all pitch in, then we can go back to that dratted asteroid and take him back!" She jammed on her Mandalorian helmet and made to run out the door, but was stopped by a quick sentence from Hera: "No."

Lasat and human eyes stared viciously at their Twi'lek captain. Both made cries of outrage, and in the blend of voices; Kanan only heard half scraps of what was said.

"-Can't be serious-"

"Could be de-"

"He's like yo-"

"-uo even thin-"

"We can't just s-"

"-ear him apar-"

"-hat reason do yo-"

"-'re not even gonna-"

"Stop."

The simple word from Kanan cut off both the angry Spectres, although they now glared daggers at him. "Kanan... the kid needs us..." If anything, these few words from Zeb made the pain even worse. There was no easy way through this, but it sure could be made harder. Kanan sighed deeply, mentally preparing himself for the discussion. His head hurt where a loose rock had struck it.

"You don't understand... there's more at stake here than just Ezra. More than just us." Hera's head bobbed up suddenly, and Kanan gave her a significant look. Now, if ever, was the time to explain exactly what their frequent cargo missions had to do with bringing down the Empire.

"What could be more important than the life of our crew?!" Sabine cried out angrily. "Kanan, he's a kid!" Zeb let loose a low growl. "I would've thought that you, of all people would understand... now I see you know nothing about how much Ezra can take. He's not as tough as h-" But Kanan sent out his own growl. The Jedi's eyes were narrowed dangerously, and Zeb seemed to realize that he'd said the wrong thing. He didn't looked abashed in the least, but his silence was all that Kanan needed to make his point.

"Do you not think I know my own Padawan's limits, Zeb?" His voice was soft, but carried through the med-bay. "That the bond shared between a Master and Apprentice can so easily be forgotten, or discarded?!" The Lasat averted his gaze, seemingly unable to continue looking Kanan in the eyes. He continued.

"I know exactly what my Padawan is going through. I can _feel_ it. All of his pain, and fear, and frustration." Kanan paused, trying to get his voice to stop shaking. But before he could begin again, Sabine cut him off.

"Then you of all people should be saying we have to go back and get him!"

"By all reasonable logic? Yes. Yes I should be. But I'm not." Sabine actually gave a cry of frustration before nearly shouting at him: "Why then?! Why aren't we going back for him?!"

"This mission... the main objective was not to deliver food and supplies to the residents of Tarkentown and other such outposts. Neither was a fair few of the missions the _Ghost_ has been running. You already know our cause: to take as much out of the Empire as we can. But do you know why?"

Sabine seemed to have been waiting for this, as she answered almost as soon as the words had come out of Kanan's mouth.

"Because the Empire took everything from us! Our jobs, our farms, our homes, our families...crew..."Kanan turned his attention to Hera. The Twi'lek nodded, giving Kanan all he needed to continue on with the conversation.

"...in part." Already expecting the two Spectre's outbursts, Kanan held up a hand to stop them before they started.

"We've seen, rescued, helped, and have been helped by many many people. Do you know why they helped us? No, it was not because they had nothing left to lose, like us. A fair number- I'd wager most of the people we've run across -have been living fruitful lives, with almost everything to lose. So why do they risk _everything they have_ to help us, a rag-tag group of vagabonds creating chaos wherever we go?"

This time there was silence.

"These runs we do are more than just helping the people to survive. It's more than just taking a bite out of the Empire. It's more than getting revenge for our loved ones. It's more than just reclaiming what they took from us. It's more than even all of those reasons combined.

"We... we are all part of an active rebellion, as you know, but our _mission_ is to overthrow the Empire. This isn't some wishful thinking, or some idolized idea to hope for while drinking... this is a real attempt to bring the galaxy back to the peace it had before the Empire. We are actually attempting to change the way the entire galaxy is run, not just the Outer Rim. This is something bigger than all of us, something encompassing the entirety of our universe as we know it.

"We're actually restoring the balance of the system, trying to overrun the centuries, maybe even millennia, of planning that the Sith went through to bring this about. We're...we're going to put everything back in it's rightful place. The Senate, the Republic, the Jedi...

"Almost every run we've done is for the sake of this vision, this...this goal of ours. We can't let one child...whoever he may be to...to..." Kanan faltered, unable to continue on with his sentence. Ezra was his Padawan...almost like his son.

The galaxy was far bigger than he was. With millions of bonds just like theirs. But no matter how much logic he ran through his systems, the fact remained: Kanan did _not_ want to leave his apprentice to the mercies of the Inquisitor. Still. The greater good had to be kept alive...had to be secured in it's fate before they rescued the teen.

"Then why did we go last time?" Zeb had finally spoken up, his green eyes more vibrant than usual.

Kanan's lip twitched upwards slightly, so little he could barely even feel it move. That had been almost two years ago, when they had first met Ezra, had first felt that he could have potential as a crew member and as a Padawan... the first time he'd seen those vivid, electric blue eyes...

Perhaps sensing that her old time friend was reluctant to continue on, Hera answered Zeb's question. The Jedi barely even registered her words.

"Last time, if you remember, we were trying to rescue a ship full of captive Wookies. The Rebellion desperately needed at least a few of them to fight for us, one Wookie is worth as much as three men in battle. But, when you all had boarded the ship and the trap was sprung, we all assumed that there _were_ no Wookies, that it had simply been bait laid out by the Empire to lure us there. It was then that Ezra was taken, when we thought the mission was over. We were able to go back for him because we thought it wouldn't jeopardize the mission in any way. We thought there wasn't any mission at all. The only reason that we went back for him was because...because..." The Twi'lek's emerald eyes were suddenly very shiny, and her voice cracked as she continued. "Because we couldn't let the Empire have him..."

Unwilling to let Hera continue on anymore, Kanan picked up the ball. "But now we can't. Going back for Ezra _will_ jeopardize the mission, and we-"

"How badly does the Rebellion need it's fruits and vegetables that we have to sacrifice our crew?" Sabine had regained her composure, though her voice shook with anger. Kanan held up his hands, placating the girl before she gave out any more outbursts. "There's a lot more than just food in those crates, Sabine. Inside is-"

"Kanan, they can get their weapons somewhere else! They're EVERYWHERE!" Zeb once again spoke up, his ears flattened on top of his head. Kanan once more shook his head. "No, Zeb. There's a lot more than guns in them as well.

"Inside of those crates are rations, blasters...and lots and lots of capsules of tibanna gas." Deep intakes of breath from the two Spectres in front of him told the Jedi they understood what that meant.

Tibanna gas was the fuel for their blasters. Without it, guns were no more useful than big clubs, as it was the ammo that fired out whenever a finger squeezed the trigger. The Rebellion could have all the guns in the universe, but without the tibanna gas required to fuel them, their fighting force would quickly disintegrate.

"Due to the center of the Rebellion being _Alderaan_, an otherwise _peaceful_ planet, large shipments of _le__thal_ blaster ammo would look highly suspicious. So, whenever we, or any other rebels, run across shipments of tibanna gas, we have to do anything we can to bring it back. That's why we were sent on this mission, not just to pick up grub. Without this... almost all we've fought for would be for nothing."

Hera stood up. "Don't misunderstand, any of you. We _will_ be going back for Ezra. That will _not_ change, and it never will. We just need to make sure the mission is completed before we do so." There was a steely look inside her eyes that made it absolutely sure to everyone involved that there was no changing this decision. Of course, Kanan wouldn't have ever dreamed that any of them would challenge it.

They _were_ going back for Ezra. They _would_ rescue him. They _would not_ allow any of the Imperials to take away their youngest crew member, be they Force-users or otherwise. Ezra was his Padawan, and Kanan would protect him, at whatever cost it took. He'd just have to wait a little while to act out on that.


	6. Contented Waiting

**Hey all! I must say, I was not expecting this amount of support... thank you guys so much! It really warms my heart to see you commenting with such enthusiasm... but anyways. Back to the show. :)**

**Disclaimer: Star Wars: Rebels belongs to Disney. And they're doing a thumping good job with it.**

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Electric blue eyes shot open, as though a loud noise had gone off. But when Ezra took in his surroundings, he quickly came to the conclusion that he was quite alone in his...room?

_No, not room. This looks like a Star Destroyer cell... Damn it._

Ezra knew this was bound to happen. Imprisonment generally followed being captured. Ezra had been caught by the local police on Lothal long enough to know that there were several different types of security within areas of confinement: none, lax, some, lots, and tight. But knowing the Inquisitor's reputation and that the Empire knew his strategies, the young teen could tell this was a place of highest security: impossible.

He would have to resort to tactics similar to when he had first been aboard a Star Destroyer; confuse, worm away, make escape. Although that had only worked last time because they hadn't known of his full capabilities... and his crew had come back for him.

A small hole inside of Ezra's chest gave an uncomfortable pang. He knew they would be coming back for him, there was no doubting that. They'd been together for far to long to just give up without attempting at least one rescue. No, what made his chest hurt was that he had bonds like that. Just about two years ago, Ezra had been living on the streets of Lothal, stealing jogens to survive. Now he was part of something bigger than himself, and he actually had a cause to do stupid stuff like sacrifice himself for them. Yes it was stupid, but who wouldn't have? Under those circumstances, he doubted-

A new spike of worry pinged through Ezra. He hadn't actually found out whether or not Kanan and the others had made it out alive... _Of course they did. I would've felt it if something happened to them... they're alive._ Though he kept repeating the two simple words to himself, there was a small seed of doubt that refused to leave its position in Ezra's chest. He'd never really been that good of a Force user, and long distances weren't really his thing...

_No. They're all alive and well. I just have to wait until they come for me._

Ezra sighed, all ready knowing this would be a boring wait. With that many Ties on them, Ezra was guessing it would take a couple of days for his friends to fix the Ghost, and maybe a couple more to find him. If he was, like he thought, aboard a Star Destroyer, then Ezra would bet his slingshot-which was currently missing- that the Inquisitor would keep the ship moving, as to make it more difficult for any rescue attempts.

Another jolt of worry followed the first. Last time he'd escaped because security had been lax, as they had no idea of his capabilities. Now, with the Inquisitor and Kallus having brought him in, Ezra knew this would be a hard rescue to pull of, no matter how experienced Kanan and the others were.

Ezra groaned. _The Inquisitor..._ if his demeanor was any indication, the rest of his stay aboard the ship was almost guaranteed to be unpleasant. Well, any time you were captured was going to be unpleasant, but Ezra had a feeling that the Pau'an would make this time even more so.

Ezra shifted his position and sat up, taking in his surroundings fully.

He was in what looked to be a large, square metal box, with a single cut of metal standing in for a real bed. Unlike his previous capture, this room had no isolated stair section to hide behind. There were stairs, but unlike the last cell, they stretched all the way to the wall, touching the sides of the walls next to where he thought the door was. Guessing that the wall on the far side of the room held the door, Ezra moved over to the wall next to it, hoping to be able to take whatever guards might come on by surprise.

This movement, however, sent pain running through Ezra's left arm. Looking through the singed material of his jacket, Ezra saw that there was no real damage done to the skin, other than some light charring. He was guessing the small scab that was present was a result of him tearing the sensitive area open when he used the Force and stretched his hand violently. Other than that, however, there was no visible damage done.

Of course, there were rumpled areas of his clothes that were almost definitely permanently wrinkled, thanks to the Inquisitor using raw Force power to hurt him. Ezra couldn't remember if Kanan had said anything specifically any extra powers through the Sith route, but his mentor had briefly gone over the 'Dark' side of the Force.

_"When you allow yourself to fall into the path of the Dark, there are... New powers. The Sith of old, of thousands of years ago and in the Clone Wars, would boast that they were stronger than the Jedi, more powerful, that the light was holding Jedi back from their true potential. They'd gain certain attributes that made them feared in battle, but, well... Ezra, there is far more to strength than just prowess in battle. Yes, the Dark side promises power, but by surrendering yourself to it, you sacrifice all that is good in you. Love, joy, bonds, family... true strength is keeping those attachments and overcoming any challenge with them, no matter what."_

And with those words in mind, Ezra breathed outwards, calming his mind. The Way to the Dark was through fear and anger, and the way to keep it at bay was by being calm and collected. Never one to do as instructed, Ezra never the less followed his Master's advice and slowed his breathing, reaching out into the Force.

He trusted in his crew, that they would come and save him before the Inquisitor could break him. He trusted in the Force to give him the strength required to wait for them to do so. And Ezra trusted in his Master's teachings to guide him through whatever darkness was to come, and to pull him out of the trouble that would eventually arrive.

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**This is probably the shortest chapter I will write for Abducted, but it has to be this way. If I added _this_ chapter to the _next_ chapter... it'd be so long my computer would explode. So yeah, expect a really big next chapter.**

** Thanks again for all of the support!**


	7. The First Botched Escape

**Ah, this was definitely one of the more fun chapters to write. I hope it's fun for you all to read as well! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Neither Rebels nor the re-breather is mine. (You'll see.)**

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After what seemed like a couple hours, the blue eyes shot open once more. There were people coming. Ezra could feel their Force signatures coming down the hall, and after a few more moments, he could hear their armored feet clanking down the metal walkway. Armored, not booted. The Inquisitor had not yet deemed Ezra worth his time to visit.

Ezra grinned. Bucket- heads he could deal with. They weren't to difficult. Quickly moving to the immediate right of where he guessed the door was, Ezra gave his cell one last scan for anything he could possibly use. Not that there was, but it had become his habit to do so after his time on the streets.

The clanking of the stormtroopers grew closer, and Ezra calmed his mind, connecting to the Force. With that, and luck, he'd be as to take out the...three men that were coming his way. He wouldn't just be able to lock the bucket-heads in his cell again, their communications to Kallus had been what'd blown Ezra's cover before. No, he would need to knock out all the troopers before any type of alarm was sounded, or he'd never be able to escape. Once again hoping that the Ghost and her crew were where they needed to be to rescue him in time, Ezra prepared to spring.

The door- it was where Ezra had predicted it to be- slid open with a 'swoosh', and the teen jumped into action. He leaped at the first trooper's foot, effectively making him topple over the teen, slamming his head down on the ledge meant for a sleeping space. _One down._ Leaping up onto his feet again, Ezra spun around to face the other two Imperials. Before they could compose themselves from his sudden attack, the raven-haired boy sprang once more, tackling the closest man, preventing him from reaching his gun.

While pinning down the man, Ezra flung out his left hand- ignoring the sharp spike of pain that accompanied doing so- and sent the soldier flying with the Force. He hit the wall with a clatter of sound that echoed through the metal halls. _One left_.

Knowing he was definitely not going to be able to keep the bucket-head down for long, surprise being the only factor that was allowing him to do so, Ezra quickly recalled the tactics Zeb and the others had taught to him. Troopers had a black body-suit under their armor that showed between the individual plates. In hand to hand combat, if smaller and weaker, aim for the gaps.

The trooper's right hand escaped Ezra's bear grip,but instead of reaching out to him, his hand was darting to the side of his helmet. His communicator. Acting quickly, Ezra ripped the blaster out of his hand, and rammed the but of the weapon on the side of the helmet his enemy was reaching for. The spark of electricity told the teen his goal had been accomplished, and the comm was disabled in his helmet.

However, Ezra didn't stop there. Using the advantage he had, the teen beat the trooper with his blaster, until the soldier went limp underneath him. "And there goes the third one. Guess I didn't need those lessons after all, guys."

Momentarily allowing pride to flow through his body at what he had done, Ezra quickly submerged it beneath the calculating quality that had got him out of similar situations. This was the isolation deck, where there were no doubt other traitors to the Empire. Ezra hesitated.

Dare he look through the other cells for potential allies? There would be risks accompanied with increasing his numbers, but at the same time, it would increase his fighting strength...

No, there were probably alarms attached to the cell doors, ones that would put him right back where he came from. Ezra would escape alone. It would probably be easier to do so, as there weren't many people beside him that could fit in the ventilation shafts. But, before that happened, Ezra needed to find his gear.

It wasn't as though his slingshot was an overly effective weapon that was necessary, just... Well, is was nice to hold onto the darn thing. It was a memento of his past, his life on the streets of Lothal. It was special to him. So, Ezra headed down the path he'd heard the troopers come from, still holding the trooper's gun. If his gear was going to be anywhere, it'd be at the mouth of the corridor, not the end.

Thanking the multiple rescues the Ghost's crew had preformed, Ezra jumped into the nearest air-vent that'd appeared around the corner. There should only be a few guards patrolling the corridors, but still. Better to take longer than to rush and get caught.

As Ezra had done this routine many times before, he knew the basic layouts of ventilation. Direct shafts to the main rooms, the ones that would be inhabited the most, smaller branches towards the least used rooms. So, after following the outline of the corridor below him, Ezra took the small vent to his left. Prisoner's belongings were rarely checked anytime, and were almost never considered vital, so the metal that would've gone into creating standard sized vents would've probably gone towards making sure some officer somewhere was comfortable. Either that or to the guns. Or some other application that required the material. Either way, the shaft was smaller than the main ones.

Ezra thanked the Force he was still as small as he'd been when he'd first joined forces with the Ghost. Zeb might tease him for being a pipsqueak, but his size came in handy in situations such as this. If he was even another inch wider in the shoulders, the metal tube he was crawling in now would be inaccessible to him. It was a tight fit, but he could still move in there.

And after a few more moments of hushed crawling, Ezra reached his destination: the prisoner's belongings room. From his above vantage point in the ventilation, Ezra could see the room was almost completely bare. Either the ship had no prisoners other than him, or the bucket-heads just took whatever they wanted for themselves. Both solutions were equally plausible.

With some careful maneuvering and patience, Ezra was able to unscrew the bolts attaching the vent to the ceiling. It was difficult to pull the grate up through the opening without making any sound, but worth it when Ezra was successfully in the room without having alerted the Imps to his presence. Hastily snatching up and re-equipping his slingshot, Ezra smiled with a small sigh of relief. It was good to have the comfortable weight of his weapon once again on his gloves. After having worn it for more than six years, it was just odd not having it there. The same could be said for his backpack, which Ezra quickly confirmed still had all his tools inside of it.

But, once again, Ezra calculated his environment. The brigs were usually situated towards the rear end of the ship, in the middle layer. The launching decks were further down the ship, away from the brig and on the sides of the arrow shape. If Ezra was to reach the docks successfully, he'd need to crawl through nearly .6 kilometers of ventilation.

* * *

**I know this is ruining the mood right here, but I just wanted to say: .6 kilometers is equal to roughly a fourth of a mile. I used kilometers even though I'm American because... well, the Empire just seems suited to using kilometers. Back to the show!**

* * *

Ezra sighed before jumping back into the vents. He had a long way to go, so he might as well start now. The tools in his pack were pressed uncomfortably against his back, but they didn't make any noise against the metal vents, so Ezra didn't worry to much about it. Still. After he was rescued by his crew, Ezra had a feeling he'd have several angry bruises on his back, as well as welts from crawling around in the small space.

The journey itself was uneventful. There was a scary moment when his weight sent a loose screw down into the corridor below, but the only bucket-head who'd been around to hear it fall left, grumbling about the poor conditions they were forced to work in. That had left Ezra shaking and sweating slightly, and from then on he'd been careful about applying his body weight on the weaker areas of the vents. The occurrence did not happen again.

The hardest part of the journey was, undoubtedly, finding the right way to go. The Destroyer's insides were almost exactly the same wherever Ezra went, and more than once he had to double back, having reached a junction where the paths available to him were too small for even his petite frame. The only thing that Ezra had to guide him through the seemingly endless maze was the bare knowledge of the Star Destroyer's inner levels from previous heists the motley crew had preformed, and his own experience of ventilation shafts. Even so, it was almost half an hour before something happened with more significance than taking the right turn.

About five troopers were running down the hall underneath him, in the opposite direction he was heading. Back towards the isolation deck. The bucket-heads were either now aware that Ezra was not in his cell, or there was a high level of disturbance elsewhere inside the ship. Both situations called for Ezra to hurry up.

Increasing the speed with which he crawled, Ezra allowed himself to make a little more noise. If the troopers were looking for him, this might be a dangerous gamble, but if his family was rescuing him... Well, he wanted to be there at all costs. He needed to get out of here, to get back to his home.

A few minutes more, and a low key alarm began to sound throughout the ship. This gave evidence to neither of Ezra's theories, however. But when a hissing noise behind him was accompanied by a yellow-green gas creeping up behind him, Ezra was forced to conclude that his time creeping about unnoticed was at an end. "That can't be good!"

No doubt, the gas was a paralytic blend,or knock-out gas. With their helmets, the stormtroopers would be unaffected by it. However, Ezra himself was not unprepared. With quite an amount of struggling, the teen pulled off his backpack and slid it in front of him. Still crawling to remain in front of the gas, Ezra plunged one of his gloved hands into the pouch and began to grope around for the re-breather Kanan had given him. When the Jedi had heard of Ezra's extreme measures to avoid such gases before hand, he had gone to his room and come back with the small metal device, saying it was his to keep.

Ezra had never thought he'd be this happy for the inch of metal, but as he slipped it over his mouth, the raven-headed teen couldn't help but to breathe out a sigh of relief. Regardless of how many troopers had helmets, most of the crew piloting the Destroyer were merely officers and below, meaning they'd only be assigned a small cap. The gas likely would be retracted after a few minutes of existence, and then the Imperials would likely run a scan for life forms inside the vent systems. No biggie. All Ezra would have to do would be wait for the gas to dissipate, then head down into the corridor below him to avoid the body scan, and continue heading to where he thought the launching bays would be.

Re-positioning his pack on his back, Ezra once again moved forward. While the gas was inside the ducts, the life scan probably couldn't be put in effect. To much interference from whatever was being carried around him. It was after the gas had gone that Ezra would need to worry, and find a vent that'd put him in a suitable position in the corridors. Then he would need to find a suitable hiding spot until he thought it would be safe for him to continue using the vents. It was _way_ to dangerous to be wandering the corridors on his own, especially if the bucket-heads were looking for him.  
He continued crawling for a few more minutes, until, as he had predicted, the gas began to fade. Casting about the branch he was currently in, Ezra thought he saw a light further ahead. Several seconds spent crawling proved his eyesight correct, as there was a vent that led down into... a meeting room.

There were at least seven troopers in there, along with- Ezra's stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch- ISB Agent Kallus. The man seemed to be observing a monitor, and panic flashed into the mind of the young Padawan. If he was viewing the results of the body scan from the room, Ezra would be easily seen... the spacings between vents was usually a minutes or more time crawling, and at the rate the gas was thinning, Ezra didn't have time to get to the next grate. Maybe he'd be able to make it before the scan actually initiated, if he threw caution to the winds and crawled as fast as he could...

Just as Ezra started to begin his frantic crawl to freedom, Kallus gave a hand signal to the rest of his team. "The gas seems to have dissipated fully,we'll be able to head back up to the bridge now." And Ezra understood. Kallus's half mask didn't have a breath purifier... he was probably forced to take shelter in one of the rooms that had it's own atmosphere generator... Ezra gave a small smile at his enemy's situation. Looks were just as helpful as they were hinderful, it seemed. With his abilities to read body language, Ezra could see that beneath the mask of indifference the Agent wore, he was boiling with embarrassment. His soldiers seemed to be stifling laughs behind their masks, able to hide their grins at their superior officer's predicament.

The small party moved out of the room, heading- no doubt-up to the deck, where the results of the life scan would be coming in shortly. After the 'swish' of the door closing sounded, Ezra hurriedly began working at the screws binding the ventilation to the room below. His work speed almost doubled when a low electric buzzing could be heard from further down the metal tunnels, signifying the dreaded scan was underway.

Feeling as though he'd only just made it in time, Ezra dropped down onto the meeting table. The grate he'd left was still connected by two screws, and hung pitifully down with him. But Ezra paid it no mind. By the time someone would come along to see it, he'd probably be off the ship: and hopefully reunited with the Ghost and her crew.

Spitting out the Jedi re-breather, Ezra stuffed it down his boot. Even if the Imps did catch him, the teen would _not_ be separated from the useful tool. Reminding himself to thank Kanan later, Ezra sat criss-crossed on the table, and began to connect to the Force. He had to make sure no-one was going down the hallway looking at the vents, and when the Force told him no one was, he sighed in relief. If the body scan had shown there was nothing in the vents, the soldiers would probably be under orders to manually search them. Although they were probably focusing on the areas closest to the brigs, then moving out from there. Knowing that the troopers were much bigger than he was, and couldn't fit in the chambers, they'd probably open up every single vent and poke their heads in to look for him. That would take time, but they'd be able to navigate long hallways within seconds, where it would take Ezra half a minute or more.

Standing up on the table, Ezra reached out to the fallen grate. His hand shot back quickly, however, when the metal gave him a nasty shock. "Darn piece of..." Once again reaching out, he was once again shocked. The boy stilled.

"Oh, man, they've electrocuted the vents..." No doubt, the Imperials had charged the vents, in order to make sure that if Ezra had dropped out of them for the scan, he wouldn't be able to go back in. His gloves had re-enforced padding, and his did have a single knee pad on his person, but those wouldn't hold up for an extended amount of energy running through them. Ezra was stuck on the ground.

"Well, guess there's no other option..." and hesitantly, Ezra headed towards the door. It opened more noisily than he would've liked, but there was no one around to hear it. Setting off at a brisk pace, the young Padawan started towards where he'd been going before. If he was lucky, it was in the right direction.

Even though he was in increasingly dangerous territory, Ezra was glad he was out of the small enclosed vents. His muscles were cramped and there was definitely bruising on his back, but now he could stretch and move much faster than he could before. He just dreaded when the bucket-heads finally figured out where he was.

A warning in the Force made Ezra stop,immediately dropping into a crouching position. Something was up ahead, just around the bend of the junction he'd stopped at. Silently praying it wasn't Kallus and his crew, Ezra sneaked around, poking his head out the junction, looking to his right.

His prayers had been answered, but Ezra didn't like in the way how.


	8. Showing Promise

**I have to say, writing in the viewpoint of the Inquisitor is a pretty fun thing to do. I just hope I'm not overdoing it with the 'I wanna take out Vader' bits... but anyways, he is a cool character to write for.**

**Disclaimer: Star Wars: Rebels is not, has not, and probably will not ever be mine.**

* * *

The Inquisitor stood, smiling just ever so slightly. The boy had passed his test with flying colors, not only taking out the three stormtroopers sent to his cell without alerting anyone, but also managing to avoid the knock-out gas and the body-scan. Yes, the child was turning out to be an interesting subject, all right.

Now, as he stood mere feet from the boy, the Pau'an could feel in the Force first his surprise, then his fear, and then his mental preparation. It seemed the rouge Jedi had trained him to keep his emotions under control. No matter, that would make breaking the boy that much more interesting.

"I must say, your persistence is admirable, boy." The Inquisitor watched, with interest, as the boys eyes narrowed by just a fraction of an inch. It seemed he himself was unaware of the gesture, which was... promising. Watching the child change from good intentions and un-known anger to full on dark would be, no doubt, entertaining. And once that process was complete, he would reap the rewards of his efforts in the form of a new apprentice that would take him to the next level of the Dark side. Merely being Vader's errand boy was not enough for the Pau'an. Not anymore.

"Strange, coming from you. I thought sworn enemies ridiculed each other, Baldy!" The Inquisitor gave no reaction to the comment, except to raise one of his eyebrows slightly. He could tell the boy was trying to create distractions to allow himself more time to think, to observe and analyze his situation. Much like the Inquisitor himself. He could see those blue eyes darting around the corridor, assessing his chances.

"Come now, come now... surely that attempt of a Force user taught you your manners?" Now he had his attention. Sensing his advantage, the Inquisitor allowed his upper lip to twitch slightly, as though fighting off a smile. The Pau'an had long since learned to conceal his true emotions behind an unbreakable mask, which allowed him full and unrestricted control to the rest of his face. Needless to say, it allowed for him to manipulate others to his hearts content: even without the Force.

The Inquisitor could tell, the way to get through this boy was to prey on the raw emotions his Master had yet to teach him to control. The small almost smile, along with jibes at his 'friends', would quickly encourage annoyance and anger to break through his discipline, and once that had been accomplished, the other Dark emotions wouldn't be far in coming. One small step at a time.

"Maybe not manners, but he's certainly taught me enough to stand up to you!" The Pau'an set loose a blood-curdling laugh that echoed in the deserted halls. Along with annoyance, the warrior would work on getting fear to show through the boy's shields, as fear was one of the keystone elements in turning. But the rouge knew that as well, and had probably hammered it into his Padawan that it was essential to keep fear at bay. It didn't matter much, though. Better to attack in multiple unseen ways than to go after the boy in one, predictable way.

And so, when the Inquisitor could feel the boy's uncertainty rippling through the Force, he allowed himself a small moment of pride. It would require his utmost best manipulation skills to break him, but the Inquisitor enjoyed challenge. After all, how else was he going to hone his skills? The Emperor accepted nothing but the best.

"You have a long way to go before you can even hope to stay alive for a few seconds while facing me, boy. Are you really so incompetent to think otherwise?" A spark of emotion flared through the child. But it quickly changed the Pau'an drew his lightsaber and ignited both the blades, tapping the small button that put it into intimidation mode. As the double blades spun in a menacing circle, the Inquisitor put on a feral grin, slowly advancing towards the human male. Intimidation was one of the key factors in creating fear, along with uncertainty. The Inquisitor was quite adapt at delivering both.

"Shall we see if your claims measure up to what you say they are?" Though the child put on a mask of bravado, the Inquisitor heard his voice shake slightly as he backed away from the menacing blades. "Come on, Baldy, don't I get a weapon?" Another laugh. Another step forward.

"Is that pitiful slingshot of yours not enough?" This time the boy laughed, but it was strained.

Obviously he wasn't as good controlling his emotions as the Inquisitor was, but this only allowed for more enjoyment during what was sure to be the long and interesting process of breaking him. "Come on, won't yo-"

The rest of his sentence was cut short as the Inquisitor leapt at the boy, simultaneously switching his lightsaber out of intimidation mode. While it was useful for inspiring fear, the constant spinning of blades made it difficult to fight in close combat. Of course, the Inquisitor wasn't actually trying to kill him, just to show him that there was no chance of him overpowering the Pau'an. Just a few jabs would suffice.

Aiming first at the boy's foot, the Inquisitor was pleased when the child leapt out of the way, taking his members out of reach of the deadly crimson blades swinging at him. He would be worth nothing if he could not evade simple thrusts. However, self-confidence was emnot/em to be allowed. The Inquisitor liked a challenge, but allowing his task to become harder was unacceptable. He could not be allowed to fail, not in this task, not when the fate of the Empire may rest in the completion on his task.

As such, the scream that resonated through the halls was to be expected. The boy gave a tremendous leap backwards, clutching at his left arm. The Inquisitor distinctly heard him mutter: "Why does it have to be this arm?" Hoping to taunt the boy further, the Pau'an called out to him: "Is this all you've got? Agent Kallus could do better than this... and he isn't even Force sensitive. Pity, pity..." but his taunts were fruitless, the pain generated by the quick jab seemed to have the teen focused on nothing else.

Deciding the time for his test was over, the Inquisitor stood up, and began to briskly walk over to the boy. "You know, I emreally/em hope you improve over time. Otherwise, I might just have to kill you." Ripping his gaze from his newest wound, the boy glared at the warrior. It seemed there was still a layer of spite and will that the boy had deeply ingrained inside of him.

The Pau'an felt it before he registered what had happened, nothing more than a twinge in the Force. After that, he found himself on the opposite end of the hall, supporting what he was sure to be a nasty bruise later on the back of his head. The inner Inquisitor smiled, but his visage was that of anger. Before the child could read too much into his slight victory, the Pau'an raised his right hand, lightsaber dropping to his side, deactivated.

The small child was raised up into the air, limbs flailing as they parted contact with the ground. Another gesture, and the boy was clutching his windpipe, very much so aware it had stopped functioning. The black-clad warrior began walking slowly towards the child, taking his dear time. The look of fear and slow asphyxiation was just... _invigorating_. Oh yes, the breaking of this human male would bring joy to the otherwise impassive Pau'an.

But, none of that showed on his face. Setting his mouth in a feral frown, the Inquisitor bore down on the child, who was now toeing the line between consciousness and oblivion. Going for the impressive scare, the Pau'an leaned in close, his face mere inches from the young boy's.

"Lay whatever hopes of rescue you have to rest. You will not escape me, and you will not defeat me. If you try escaping with your friends the way you did last time, know that everyone aboard that puny vessel will die. You. Are. _Mine._" And with that note, the boy faded into unconsciousness. Releasing the Force grip on his throat, the Inquisitor allowed the boy to fall, lifelessly, onto the deck.

The Inquisitor drew in a deep breath. When he finally forced the boy into the Dark, how powerful would he become... the warrior had high expectations for the boy. He would make a worthy apprentice for the Inquisitor, and would be the one on which the Force hinged upon. Whatever momentous event would occur with him, the Inquisitor would be the one to guide it into fruition, the one who ultimately brought about the change.

Reaching into his black tool-belt, the Pau'an pulled out a small rectangle of metal and activated it. "Agent Kallus, I have the boy restrained in section D-38 9. Send a pick-up crew to replace the child into his cell, and tighten the security on it." There would be no further tests of this nature.

"Send in a torture droid an hour after he wakes, and immediately inform me of when he does so." There was a phrase of acknowledgement from the communicator, but before the Inquisitor put it away, he gave the boy one thoughtful glance.

"This time... inject him with a Force inhibitor."

* * *

**Oh noes! What's gonna happen to poor Ezra! Oh wait, I know. Heh, it's pretty cool.**


	9. A Family Apart

**So, this chapter isn't gonna be the most exciting one, but I do feel it's necessary. But, judging from all of your reactions from the last chapter I thought was boring, I hope that you'll like this one too!**

**Disclamer: Star Wars. Rebels. Not mine. Disney's.**

* * *

Sabine didn't like this. She didn't like this one bit at all.

For God's sake, Ezra was like her brother! Admittedly, brothers didn't try to flirt with you, but he was getting better at not doing that sort of stuff. Ezra needed them, he needed their help, but they were playing delivery girl and making sure the Rebellion got it's ammo, because they were 'the only hope.'

Sure, Sabine knew they exact reason why they'd left Ezra behind. Did she agree with it? Nope. The Rebellion could get it's own Tibanna gas. Sabine'd even suggested just leaving the darned cargo on an abandoned asteroid somewhere so they could go ahead and rescue their smallest member. But Hera and Kanan had said no.

Were they really _this_ prepared to leave Ezra on his own?

Yes, he'd grown up on the streets. Yes, he knew how to take care of himself. But also _yes_, the Inquisitor was a maniac that wanted nothing more than to take Ezra away from them completely.

When Sabine was alone in her room- which was most of the time, nowadays- the enormity of it all seemed to come down on her shoulders. She's been surprised when Kanan had come clean about their exact intentions, something Sabine had been trying to get them to do for a while now. The fact that they were part of a rebellion wasn't that life-changing. She'd known that- ish- for a while now. The fact that they were actually trying to change the galaxy... when she thought about it too much, it sent shivers down her spine.

Kanan had said that that was their actual goal. Not a drunken ideal. The galaxy was so, _so _very big... and the Ghost, with her small crew of six- five, now,- was tiny compared to it. How could they hope to actually change something that vast?

But these arguments hadn't shifted Hera or Kanan at all. They said that they were going to accomplish their goal with the help of others who actively pursued it, just like they were.

It sounded like a bunch of baloney to Sabine.

She didn't need a goal to fight the Empire: she already had several reasons. This dream of one-day righting the Galaxy didn't do anything to boost her emotional status, or anything like that. It just meant some more people would be involved. And usually, Sabine wouldn't have cared.

But if this beloved ideal got in the way of them rescuing Ezra, it mattered very much to Sabine.

Nothing should have gotten in the way of them going back for their youngest crew member, of reuniting the members of their family. Nothing. And yet here they were now: heading in the complete opposite direction of him.

Running away.

Sabine just didn't like the feeling of not being able to help someone dear to her. That probably was the second to top reason that she wanted to wrench the steering out of Hera's hands and reverse course. The main one, of course, was just because she missed the kid running around, screaming at Chopper or Zeb, or grumbling about Kanan thwapping him or Hera refusing to let him pilot the ship.

Sabine missed him complementing her art, trying desperately to hit on her. Even if he a few years younger than her, the kid needed a little more than the Force for those little attempts to actually mean something to Sabine. After all, it wasn't his flirts that made her miss him. It wasn't even the absence of complements to her art; she already knew it was good.

No, the one reason that his absence really un-balanced her was that Ezra was a part of their family. Over the year and a half that he'd been with them, he'd really become an integral part of their systems. Before they'd met, mission were bam-bam-bam; rush the compound, kill the soldiers, get the supplies, get out of there before they all died. The kid, when he'd come, had introduced a new... flavor of missions, a whole new path that branched off into multiple directions.

Sabine, being the girl that she was, needed those variation in her life. They just made life more colorful.

Not only that, but it had become second nature to look over her shoulder to marvel at the situations he would somehow manage to land himself in. Just a few days ago, he'd accidentally managed to disable Zeb's communicator during a romp with Chopper, and had literally been chased down by the Lasat until he had been forced to take refuge in the ventilation.  
The memory of the hectic shouts and thuds reverberating through the ship brought a small smile to Sabine's lips. She could always count on the kid to spice things up a bit.

Ezra was family. He was like a brick laid down in the foundation of a building, along with herself, Zeb, Kanan, and Chopper. They all worked together to hold up the weight of their missions, and when any one of them was removed... the whole system crumbled. If it had been Zeb that'd been taken, or Kanan, or Hera, or even herself, the crew would be going through the exact same thing as they were now. They all needed one another to survive. Without any one member... they would just fall apart.

So, when the Ghost finally dropped out of the stony hyperspace it'd maintained for three days, Sabine was not at all surprised to find herself in the bridge with the other four Spectres, eagerly looking down at the planet. They'd finish their business. They'd make their repairs.

And then they'd fix their family.

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**Hurray for family fluff! Again, I realize that it's not the most exciting chapter, but I felt like it was necessary to clear up that the crew of the _Ghost_ really is one big family. It may be weird and stinky, but it is their family, and that's one of their main driving reasons for rescuing one another. Peace!**


	10. Soul Tremors

**Well now, hold onto your seats, because this chapter's a little interesting. The tone changed a little bit from before, but overall the story remains the same. Have fun!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rebels. Whoever's in charge of Disney does.**

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Ezra growled softly as he pressed his hand against his injured arm. It was the same...darn...arm...

_First shot, then ripped, then stabbed, and now mangled. What else are they gonna do to it, cut it off?_

Although, the way things were going, the bucket-heads might do just that.

After his disastrous escape attempt, Ezra had woken up in a different cell with a pounding headache. Not to mention arm pain. _Why_ the Inquisitor had to go for that specific arm was a mystery, but it had hurt like hell when Ezra'd first woken up. Of course, soon after that, they'd sent in the little torture bot.

Ezra had seen one of them before; seen it in action while rescuing a fugitive with the Ghost. But he'd never been on the receiving end of their countless appendages, each bearing some new form of pain. He was no stranger to pain, but all the same... that hadn't been pleasant. Now Ezra had some new scars and scabs to add to his collection of bruises from the ventilation shafts.

How long the droid had been in there, Ezra hadn't known. But when it'd left, oblivious to the small blood spatters on it's front, the thought had occurred to Ezra that it was odd no one had asked him any questions. Well, except for the Inquisitor in the beginning, of course. But that question would always receive the same answer. There was absolutely no way Ezra was going to join the Pau'an in his gambits.

Ezra frowned down at his left arm, still annoyed that it was the one the Imps seemed to like beating up the most. As well as the droid choosing to inject all of it's separate serums into that one vein, a small blade had cut into the flesh repeatedly, going close enough to the important arteries of his circulation system to make Ezra scared.

It hadn't actually done anything life-threatening, and Ezra had to admire the skill the droid had been programmed with to do so. It had gone very- _very_-close to his major necessities. Other than that, though, the procedures it had executed hardly fell above brutal. Electric shocks. Injections that made his blood burn like fire. Cuts along his appendages that were not major, but stung and hurt in the ways that only the little droid could make them.

He wasn't proud of it, but after the droid had left, Ezra had passed out on the floor, in a pool of his own blood. Definitely not good for his jumpsuit. He'd only woken up now, and began to tend to his injuries the best way that he could with the limited materials. Completely detaching a torn piece of fabric, Ezra pressed the cloth to a gash on his side. It was just about as serious as the other injuries, but he figured it was the one that impeded his movement most, and needed to be looked at first. Cuts on his legs: he could deal with those. They weren't unfamiliar to Ezra.

Of course, most of his cuts had already healed. They weren't, after all, major, and after whatever mount of time he'd been asleep, the smaller ones had healed. To his knowledge, the only cuts that were still bleeding freely were the side gash he was tending now, and cuts on his right calf, bicep, forehead, chest, and, of course, his arm. His blasted arm.

Ezra sighed. If he didn't have faith in his crew, the teen probably would've just given into whatever demands they asked of him... except for the single offer the Inquisitor had made for Ezra to join him in 'the Dark side.' Even if Ezra hadn't known he was a Force user, he'd still say no to the creep... There was just something about him that screamed out 'evil.' Ezra was no goody goody like the Kenobi or Yoda Kanan had spoken to him about, but there was no way that anything the Pau'an could offer Ezra would ever sound appealing.

Applying pressure to the gash still, Ezra stirred from the bloody corner of the room. The droid had plaid a low card, injecting Ezra with a paralysis before administering him with any of the 'treatments,' to ensure that no harm could befall the small droid that so resembled Chopper. Although, there wasn't much that the teen could've done, to be honest. Not with the creepy Baldy standing in the opposite corner of the room, watching him.

A shiver ran down Ezra's spine. With his increased sensitivity towards the Force, Ezra could feel- sort of, ish- the Inquisitor's basic wants. For some reason, he wanted Ezra... he wanted to be present in his pain, and the teen had a nasty feeling that the Pau'an had been watching him in the Force as well, observing his presence in the ever-flowing tide ebb. There was no doubt about it, the Inquisitor wanted Ezra to join him... and bad. The only hope that the small boy had of resisting him was that his crew would come and snatch him out of the clutches of the Empire, much as they had done last time.

A smile adorned Ezra's face.

Try as he might to turn him away from Kanan and the others, Ezra would not let the Inquisitor mar his experiences with his new found family. They were not replacements for his parents: nothing could ever replace them- but they were the closest things he had to an actual functioning family for eight years. As much as Ezra found the experience odd, he wasn't about to let some selfish alien take away those bonds he had just so happened to stumble upon. They were fate's greatest gifts to him, and the boy would guard them jealously.

Of course, there was no way of him to contact them. Not right now, anyway.

Ezra had a nasty feeling that the Inquisitor had done something really odd to him, something that tampered with his Force receptance. There was no way of completely cutting of a Jedi's connection to the Force (none that Kanan knew of, anyway), but what Ezra was able to connect to seemed blurred and muddled. Ezra couldn't reach out to try to find Kanan even if he could, limited skill in that area not withstanding. He had a feeling his mentor couldn't either.

Still, Ezra had an understanding of injections. They couldn't last forever: body fluids and systems would digest and expel the alien substances within a few hours or more, depending on the strength and complexity of the injection. After that was dealt with, it was a simple matter of reaching out through the Force and finding Kanan's distinct signature.

Ezra looked down at his side, calculating. It'd probably heal soon, and the pains that it caused when moved would dissipate as well. It'd take two hours at the most, or so Ezra hoped. Time was money, as his street-life taught him, but it was also valuable in and of itself. Time that Ezra couldn't hope to waste.

And so, gritting his teeth at the jolts of protest his body sent out, Ezra moved onto the metal ledge that stood in for a bed. He'd heal faster if he was resting not only his body, but his mind and internal systems as well. Getting rid of the distractions of being awake would allow his brain to focus on telling the rest of his organs to get rid of the Force inhibitor, and then he could find his mentor and the Ghost.

One step at a time.

* * *

However, Ezra didn't get a chance to rest that long. Hardly an hour after he fell into uncomfortable sleep, footprints rang out in the hallway behind him. Ezra opened his eyes with a scowl. His side wound still hurt enough to hinder his movement, and any more fighting would just force it open anyway. This time, he'd allow the bucket-heads to enter his room peacefully.

This time.

But the troopers never came in. After they walked seemingly right up to the door of his cell, the reverberating sounds of their footsteps on the metal stopped. Being unable to see clearly outside his cell, Ezra could only guess that they were standing guard directly in front of his cell. Waiting for someone important to come in, no doubt.

Ezra let a low groan escape his mouth. The last time they had met, Ezra'd Force pushed the Inquisitor into the opposite wall, hard enough to draw blood, in his view. Then the angry Pau'an had gone a step further and crushed his trachea and other neck-found organs, forcing Ezra to fall into oblivion. A further meeting with the warrior would _not_, Ezra knew, be pleasant.

And so, when two pairs of boots softly padded down the corridors the troopers had previously walked down, Ezra would not have been surprised if his face lost a shade or two of color. A double meeting. This time with Agent Kallus, no doubt. When Ezra got back to the crew, he'd have to apologize to Zeb for not taking a swing at the brutal man while he could, but just the small act of swinging his feet off of the ledge and standing up made his vision go blurry.

Revenge attacks could wait. It seemed that the other wounds which had been bleeding still had their part to say in dictating Ezra's actions.

The door swished open, and the two men Ezra found he despised most stepped down the small inclination. Kallus, with his mutton-chops showing freely, was carrying a data pad, while the Inquisitor merely had his hand folded behind his back. Ezra did _not_ like the small smirk he wore on his face.

The door swished shut behind them, and the Inquisitor opened his mouth before Ezra could utter a single sound.  
"Oh dear, dear. It seems that your little friend treated you with little more compassion than a fyrnoch shows to a mouse. Let me be the first to say, boy, that you look absolutely dreadful."

"As long as I don't have ugly lines running down my face, I'm fine with a few scars here and there, Baldy." Ezra tried to put as much contempt as he could into the few words, trying desperately to mask his dizziness and praying to the Force that his voice wasn't shaky.

However, it seemed that the Inquisitor was just as much of a body-reader as Ezra was, for he only lifted an eyebrow and deepened his ghoulish smile.

"This is your last offer, child. Surely by now you recognize that your pitiful excuse of a master cannot teach you how to be truly strong? If you _really_ want to protect yourself and your... friends... then I suggest that you reconsider your education." The Pau'an leaned forwards, lowering his voice just ever so slightly.

"Join me."

"Mustafar will look like Hoth before you even have a chance to tun me from my crew, Baldy." Ezra spoke just as quietly as the Inquisitor, partly to deliver a similar effect as the Pau'an had, and partially because if he spoke any louder, Ezra feared he would faint. Apparently the lingering wounds were more serious than he'd initially assumed they were.

However, this seemed not to sway the Pau'an in front of him in the slightest. He straightened up, and angled his head slightly towards Kallus, still keeping his eyes focused on Ezra. "Let it be recorded in your report, Agent, that while under interrogation, the captured rebel child has, unfortunately, perished. It seemed that the questioning methods used upon him were too harsh for a child with such a frame, and thus... wiped him out."

Ezra's face paled. His eyes widened. His heart-race increased almost tenfold. He... Ezra was still alive, but... oh. Oh now it made sense. The Inquisitor had gotten bored of his newest acquisition. Now it was time to be the amusement of the Pau'an, until he actually died from sheer torture... not a fun way to go, but at least he'd have never given into the black menace before him. Kanan would've been proud of that, at least.

"Time of death, sir?" Kallus inquired, face arranged in slight amusement. It seemed that the Agent was going to play his part also. Oh well. That'd probably make it a lot quicker.

"19:37, I believe it was. You know how it is, Agent, to be so focused in the mission... the little details such as time seem to just slip the mind..." And with a bark of laughter, Kallus agreed with him.

Maybe, if Ezra could ignore the throbbing pains scattered throughout his body, the teen could actually manage to attack the two men before him. It was futile, of course, just a single glance at Kallus's full weapon's holster and the Inquisitor's ever watchful eyes told him that. But it'd make dying a whole lot faster, if they just simply killed him in defense. That, or they'd draw out his suffering for as long as possible.

However, when the ISB Agent reached for his data pad, he did not just seem to enter a date onto presumably Ezra's death details forum. Instead, he pressed a single button, then quickly turned his attention to Ezra, seemingly gauging his reaction.

Ezra didn't have to know why, either. After what seemed like minutes to Ezra, but in reality couldn't have been more than a few seconds, an un-earthly scream rang through the enclosed space. It was horrendous, full of pain and fear and sheer raw _hurt_, without any dignity or self-consciousness to it. After a few seconds of the noise, Ezra realized that it was him screaming through the small data-pad.

Apparently, the little bot had done more that just poke and prod him. It must've recorded Ezra's screams of pain, so that the two men in front of him would be able to sort through it, picking out the worst instances. But why?

When the noise ended, it seemed to reverberate through Ezra's mind even still, haunting him with the knowledge that he had unleashed those primal shouts of pain. So he was not surprised to have missed the first few words of the Inquisitor speaking.

"...however, seeing as this was the death of a dangerous criminal who killed and thwarted many of our hard-working troopers and missions, it is only natural that the news of this most... _unique_ individual be broadcasted through out the entire Outer Rim sector, don't you think that prudent, Agent?"

"Oh, most certainly, sir. The quadrant has a right to know that one of it's most active terrorists has finally been dealt with. I daresay it would come as a huge moral boost to the troops as well, and help us to apprehend the other members of this particular rebel cell."

And with those few words, understanding dawned on Ezra. The Inquisitor wasn't going to kill him. He was going to pretend he had, and use the recording of Ezra's torture to prove it. He was going to make sure that anyone within range would know of his supposed death. And anyone included the Ghost and her crew.

If Kanan and the others found this little piece of 'news,' there'd be nothing to tell them that the Empire was broadcasting a lie. They'd no doubt try to hack into the official Imperial records to try and find out if it was true, in which case they'd find the file Kallus was currently making, certifying his demise. They'd assume the Empire was telling the truth. Any hope of contact now fluttered feebly in his chest.

After all, why would Kanan try to reach out to a dead man? In that view, why would Hera, Sabine, or Zeb risk their necks to try and rescue him, if all the evidence pointed towards him being dead?

The Inquisitor seemed to see that the full implications of what they were going to do sank into Ezra, for he smiled dangerously, showing pointed yellow teeth. The markings around his eyes never seemed so vibrant as now. He had Ezra. He was going to keep the Ghost away.

And he knew it.

As such, when the two men exited his cell and traveled down the corridor, Ezra was, truly, left alone, to wallow in his doubt and fear.

* * *

**I just wanted to get this out of the way now, because this plot-point's gonna be coming up in a little bit. The Star Wars universe is divided into several sectors: Outer Rim; the place where most of the Rebel's timeline takes place in, Mid Rim; home to Naboo, Kashyyyk, and others, Inner Rim; where a plot point planet Myrkr is located, Core Worlds; home to Alderaan, and Deep Core Worlds. Currently, Ezra and the Inquisitor are in the Outer Rim, where the broadcast of Ezra's 'death' will soon be spread. The _Ghost_ and her crew, however, are at Alderaan, in the Core Worlds. As of yet, they have no idea of the broadcast, and they only will when they return to the Outer Rim.**

**Sorry about the length of this end-chapter-bit, but I needed to clear this up before it got too complicated later on. Thanks!**


	11. Wake Up Call

**Just to bite off any confusion early on, this is almost directly after Ezra's botched escape/test. Other than that, family fluff once again!**

**Disclaimer: There's this company called Disney... and they own Rebels.**

* * *

Hera's hand stopped, hovering above the control panel it had been typing into. The man next to her had given a worrisome twitch, as though he'd received a small shock from Chopper. But as the small bot was down in the engines room making repairs, this was highly unlikely.

"Kanan, love? What happened?" Before, there had been silence on the bridge, as the Twi'lek hadn't wanted to disturb her friend's concentration. He'd been in a meditative trance, trying to find the location of Ezra, but now,since his eyes had shot open, Hera guessed he'd come out of it.

"I..." the Jedi pit his head into his hands, a sign of frustration usually tucked away. Not good.

"Hera, I... I sort of found him." Hera raised an eyebrow, but didn't press the question. She didn't fully understand the Force, it may be completely possible he only half found their missing Spectre. He'd tried to explain it to her once, saying that the Force was like a giant river, and living organisms were no more that rocks thrown into it creating ripples. He'd said finding someone specific in the Force was like trying to view all the ripples at once and determine what kind of rocks had made them... Hera just trusted in her friend to know what he was doing.

"It was more of our Master-Padawan bond than anything else, but... I knew what was happening." His eyes furrowed, as though he was trying to remember a faint dream. "He'd escaped-" a flutter of hope blossomed, "-but the Inquisitor got to him." The hope seemed to strangle itself and die in the lower regions of Hera's stomach.

"Then, there was..." when the Jedi paused, Hera knew he was considering hiding something from her. She grabbed his shoulder and turned his face towards her, so that he couldn't escape her piercing gaze. Nothing would be unknown to her when in concerned her crew. The Jedi seemed to understand that, as he relented and finished his sentence.

"There was a sharp pain in his arm-the one he was shot in- and then he was unconscious. I... I don't think he... Ezra's alright, for the most part, but I can't find his Force signature anymore. The Imps probably injected him with an inhibitor."

Hera sighed, pursing her lips and looking downward slightly. The plan was to repair the ship while making the jump to Alderaan, deliver the Tibanna gas, and using guidance from Kanan, find Ezra. If he couldn't locate their sixth Spectre, they'd have to find him the hard way. Meaning he was stuck in the hands of the Inquisitor for longer.

The further away they flew from the asteroid, the further Hera was convinced they hadn't done the right thing. Ezra was like... like her _son_, and she had left him. Granted, she'd though he was on board when she'd taken off, but Hera had not rushed back to rescue him as soon as she knew. Ezra needed them, needed her... but so did the Rebellion.

They had to look past their single needs, towards the greater good. The Tibanna gas was likely the life line of the Rebellion, and if their rescue attempt somehow went wrong... the entire organization would likely hang from nothing more substantial than a thread. Ezra would have to hold out until they could go and reclaim him.

"Thank you, Kanan." And with only a slight pause, Hera resumed typing in numbers on the panels.

The Ties had done their damage: the shields were almost non-existent, the main engines were coughing, steering was just slightly off, and the anti-gravity generators were offline in some of the rooms. Hera was just thankful they hadn't hit the life-support, though the multiple scorch marks Chopper had reported indicated that they had tried their hardest to do so.

The majority of the damages sustained could be fixed while in hyperspace, like the anti-gravity generators and the main engines. But the outside injuries would have to wait until they reached Alderaan. Hera despised that any time that could be devoted to rescuing Ezra would be spent doing other tasks, but it would be suicide going in against what would probably be a Star Destroyer in anything other than their best condition.

Hera would have made _all_ the repairs on the way to their destination, but as sending someone out while in hyperspace would result in their immediate deaths, she was content with waiting.

Kanan, however, did not seem in the least content. His eyes had been permanently down cast since waking up, and his usually broad shoulders were drooped. No matter what he said otherwise, Hera knew her partner was probably blaming himself for his Padawan's capture. Zeb had told them the exact details of what'd happened, from the moment the Empire had sprung their trap to when the Tie had crashed above Kanan and the Inquisitor. Hera knew Kanan was blaming himself for not being fast enough or strong enough or whatever, and the Twi'lek didn't like it one bit.

If he blamed himself, how could the others keep an acceptable attitude? If they were _all_ bummed out, who was to say that the Empire wasn't going to kill them all, leaving Ezra stuck with the Inquisitor forever? They all had to pull through this. They all had their part to play, both in their friends' capture... and in his rescue.

And so, Hera did not feel the slightest bit of regret when she thwaped Kanan on the back of his head.

"Hey! What was that for!?" Indignation colored his voice, and Hera could not help but feel relieved at the small sign that the Jedi was not un-reachable.

"For setting a bad example to your crew," she growled out, focusing her view on the hyperspace channels surrounding her ship. Hera sighed, then cut off Kanan's would-be response.

"We _all _hate this situation. We _all_ feel as though we could've stopped this from happening."

"Yeah, but only one person is actually responsible for this..." Hera turned an angry visage towards her partner. She hit him again.

"Kanan, you idiot! How is blaming yourself gonna help him?! How is skulking around in negativity gonna bring him back?! Right now, all you're doing is convincing yourself of faults you don't have! Instead of wallowing in self-pity and thinking 'if only,' you should be focusing on how you're going to get him back!" Hera took a deep breath and swallowed, aware that her eyes seemed wetter than normal. And that Kanan couldn't seem to stop looking at them.

"Kanan, Ezra doesn't need a mentor who breaks down when something bad happens. He needs someone who'll fix whatever mistake he made and use the experience gained to prevent anything like this from happening again."

She turned back to her panels to resume her work, but found her vision blurred. Stupid tears. Silence enveloped the deck, and Hera realized she had almost been shouting. It'd be a miracle if Zeb and Sabine hadn't heard her yelling at the Jedi. While Hera resumed her data computing, Spectre one seemed not to be able to move. He was sitting very still in his chair, and Hera toyed with the idea that he'd gone back into a meditative trance. A quick glance at his reflection in the dash told her he was still staring at her, expression un-readable.

After a few minutes of stony silence, he opened his mouth. "You know, if you were anyone else, I'dve probably punched you."

Hera grunted. "I'd like to see you try."

Risking a glance at her partner, Hera saw a small smile on his face. The first for a while. "I'm sure the rest of the crew would as well." Against its' owner's will, the corner of her mouth twitched upwards in a slight smile. Just picturing that scene was... entertaining.

Before she could deliver her response, however, the comm activated, and a series if bleeps and whirs told Hera that Chopper had fixed the internal ship's systems as best he could. The rest Zeb or Hera would have to do.

Kanan sighed. He'd been getting better at interpreting the astromech, and now no longer needed to see his eccentric joint movements to understand his meaning. "I'll see what I can do to help him." And with that, the Jedi moved towards the bridge door. However, there was a pause before he went through the blast doors.

"Hera... thanks for waking me up." And that was all he needed to say for her to understand his unspoken feelings. Hera smiled as the doors closed behind him, leaving her in the silence of hyperspace. However hard he tried to appear emotionless and tough, the Twi'lek knew her partner. She knew how he worked, and how to fix him when he jammed.

She just hoped she wouldn't need to fix Ezra.

* * *

Days passed aboard the Ghost as they traveled through hyperspace, days that only seemed to highlight their youngest crew members' absence. There were no roars from Zeb at a pulled prank. There was no Chopper screaming down the hallway to avoid dismemberment. There were no complements to Sabine's art. There were no floating objects resulted from his concentration in the Force.

There were no pestering questions on if Hera would let Ezra fly the ship.

The silence shouldn't have bothered the crew that much. They'd lived without him for a majority of their time aboard the Ghost. Hera and Kanan even more so than the other two members of their crew.

And yet, the silence that attributed to the Ghost's name was not natural. There was nothing peaceful about it. The crew mostly stuck to themselves, hardly saying a word during their trip to Alderaan. Each minute that passed was ripe with silent accusations, as the Spectres noticed the absence of noise like a cannon-shot.

For Kanan, it was even more torturous than for the others, as he could sense the occasional twinge of pain from his apprentice. Each time, he became almost deathly still, frozen in concentration as the Jedi tried to use these bursts of feeling to locate Ezra through the Force. And each time, Kanan would resume his previous activities with frustration and resentment at his failure to do so.

Whatever Hera said, it was clear to her that the Jedi refused to believe he was not responsible for Ezra's capture. He was no longer moping, instead just about as grim as the other Spectres. But the sensitive Twi'lek could tell, on the inside he was beating himself up. She was still concerned for him, but at least he was hiding his feelings from Zeb and Sabine.

As for herself, there were still guilty feelings in her mind, as well. Try as she might to remember their cause, Hera just couldn't get over the fact that they had left her youngest crew member to fend for himself against the Inquisitor and all the other Imperials. Of course, she was no hypocrite. Hera didn't let her feelings show, much the same as Kanan wasn't either.

The only exciting thing that'd happened- apart from Chopper attempting to lighten the mood- was when the Ghost finally arrived out of hyperspace and was greeted wit the sight of the blue-green Alderaan.

The entire crew had gathered in the bridge, watching as their destination drew steadily closer. They'd opened communications with the planet below, identified themselves, and flew down to the rendezvous point. All four members, with Chopper staying on the Ghost, went out of the ship and headed towards their contact. Now that Zeb and Sabine knew the full importance of their missions, Hera saw no reason that they shouldn't be present at their meetings with Fulcrum.

However, Fulcrum wasn't the one who was waiting for them.


	12. Infiltration

**Oh my goodness! I wasn't aware that views could climb so high! Thank you all, thank you so much!**

**Disclaimer: You see, Disney has, like, legal documents, proving that Rebels is theirs.**

_Slanted= Ezra's thoughts_

**_Bold=_ Inquisitor's_ thoughts_**

* * *

The Inquisitor was in a good mood. To say he was happy was an overstatement, he no longer felt such basic emotions as 'happy' or 'sad.' He merely felt.

But right now, he was in an un-naturally good mood.

When he and the Agent had left the boy's room he other day, he hadn't even needed the Force to feel the waves of worry and doubt emanating from the child. It seemed the way to unleash this boy's emotions were simple: plant subconscious doubts in the boy's mind discretely, water them with fear and pain, and allow them to grow.

It was a simple enough formula, but one that the Inquisitor absolutely loved to see in action. No matter who the target was, seeing their will crumble and fail was as exhilarating to the Inquisitor as flying a ship was to others. It was his sport, his one past-time, in which he was deadly good at playing.

As such, the report that Agent Kallus had given him put him into a delightful mood.

The _Ghost_ and her crew were probably still out there, licking their wounds. If they were listening to Imperial news while they recuperated, then it would only be a matter of hours before any hopes of rescuing the boy would be crushed. If they were completely cut off from the media, a couple of days at the most. The report itself would be broadcasted for the next standard week, so they couldn't miss it.

It was quite good, Kallus's voice bringing news that one of the most active terrorists in the Outer Rim systems was finally dead. There was a picture of the child, as incriminating as the Empire could make it, along with the scream that the torture bot, I-84-B, had recorded. It looked exactly like a standard Imperial report, and it would look completely official to the crew of the _Ghost_.

Granted, it should not have had to be broad-casted at all. If the pilots had actually done their job, the rebels should have been nothing more than space debry floating around the asteroid system. But it seemed thier contact had lied, or at least had been mistaken, in his analysis of the motley crew. They were tenacious, the Pau'an gave them that, but were ultimately nothing more than a thorn in his side. Nothing was supposed to be able to hinder the Inquisitor's goals, and the _Ghost_ was the one thing that could. And because of botched information and sub-standard flying skills, they were still able to ruin what the Inquisitor ad so carefully laid out.

But now, the broadcast was being sent out. Even if they did not keep a regular watch on Imperial news and such, while they conducted investigations on where the boy might possibly be, they were bound to stumble on the report, one way or another. If they refused to believe it, there were official reports of the young boy's death in the records.

The Inquisitor doubted that they would give up without a fight, however. Even if the rebel crew refused to give up on the child, though, there was no way that the Pau'an was going to allow them to make another rescue of the boy. He was too important to the future of the Empire, to the Force. The Inquisitor knew that if he let the child slip through his fingers, he would be losing the chance to rule the galaxy. Power wasn't exactly a concept that the Pau'an drooled over. He'd never wanted power before.

If anything, it was his masters' act of converting the Pau'an to the Dark that had started this... lust. Let the Force rule you. Rule over the Force. That was the way of the Sith, and it had been drilled into the Inquisitor so that even if he forgot his own name, the idea that shaped who he was would never be forgotten. But giving the Pau'an the life-style of mastering the Force had had an unintended side effect. Vader knew that the Sith were under constant threat of being usurped by their apprentices. That was the way of things, ever since the rule of two had gone into practice.

But Vader hadn't considered the Inquisitor a true Sith. A threat. Which was exactly what the Pau'an was going to show the man cloaked in black, that a Sith was one who conquered. Who ruled. Vader would be eliminated, and the Inquisitor would take his rightful place as apprentice to the Emperor, to one day climb the throne of power himself.

Molding the Pau'an into a warrior of darkness had created Vader's most potent challenger, and one day over-thrower.

All that was needed to accomplish that dream- no, that _hunger_, for power- was the boy. The one named Ezra Bridger, who was strong in the Force- even if he himself had no idea of it. He would help the Inquisitor ascend to the seat of dominance.

But to do that, he needed to be broken. Hammered down til he was nothing more than a shell of a human, a shell that could be filled with the ideals of the Dark. Then he would become the perfect soldier, the perfect apprentice, the perfect tool.

Which was why, as the official message was sent out, that the Inquisitor felt a sense of... elation. The Rebels would now be one step further from rescuing the prisoner now doubting his crew in the lower levels of the Star Destroyer, and bring him one step closer to the darkness.

The door to the bridge swished open, and Kallus stepped through. The Inquisitor did not turn to face the officer, instead gazing at the black emptiness of space that mirrored his consciousness so. The officer was used to such treatment; he was inferior and he knew it.

"The official proclamation of Ezra Bridger's death has been successfully sent to the planets of the major systems, sir. Within five standard hours, they will have covered the entirety of the Outer Rim with the news, sir." The Pau'an smiled.

"Then that's everything in order. Now then, go and have the pilots set a course for Myrkr, Agent." The Inquisitor didn't need the Force to feel his confusion.

"Myrkr, sir? But that's in the Inner Rim-"

"Do you not think I know of this? My job is to weed out any remaining Jedi, and to convert of kill any force-sensitives I come across. But young Bridger has the potential to become... more... than just a standard Force-user. In order for his full potential to be un-locked, a pit-stop at Myrkr is essential. I will deal with my Master if he calls, Agent. It is your job to do as I tell you to, however." Kallus did not need to know the details, neither did the members of storm-troopers that operated the Inquisitor's ship, the _Imminent Pursuit_. They would follow his instructions to the letter, leaving the Pau'an to carry out his own plans. That was how the _Imminent Pursuit_ worked, how it functioned.

Kallus was not a part of his crew. He did not know the procedures. He did not know not to ask questions. But he would. Even if his stay was temporary, Kallus would not be allowed the luxury of questioning the Inquisitor. No one was.

"Very... very well, sir." With that, the rustling of cloth told the Inquisitor that Kallus had saluted, and then he left his chambers.

The hum of the _Imminent Pursuit_ seemed to grow louder in the silence, it swallowed the Inquisitor whole, allowing his thoughts to brood. Vader had allowed the Inquisitor control of the Jedi-hunting exquisitely in the Outer Rim. He was to go no where else, except when ordered to by his Master or the Emperor. Disobeying those commands would be the first sign to his Master that the Inquisitor was rebelling. After the stop to Myrkr, he would have no time to enjoy his current project, instead move towards breaking the child in the most efficient and fastest way he knew.

The Ysalamiri would play an essential role in this.

Technically, the Inquisitor was not supposed to know of the Ysalamiri. Well, he was never told about them, at any such rate. Myrkr was nothing more than a planet ripe with bandits and smugglers too insignificant for the Empire to care about. But the Inquisitor had studied the logs and reports of Myrkr extensively.

The Imperial surveyor stationed there had noted that the race of furry tree-dwellers known as the Ysalimir naturally produced a sort of Force-repellent bubble, which it had adapted to fend of predators. While they could not be permanently dis-lodged from their trees, the Inquisitor was cunning.

The Ysalimir was a race of beings that attached themselves to trees and absorbed the nutrients that came from within the bark. To remove an Ysalimir from their roost meant death for the furry lizards. But there was be a way to remove them, yet keep them alive and functioning...

Nutrient frames. The Ysalimir would be keep alive by being put inside a harness-like contraption that kept the essential flow of nutrients intact, thus providing and sustaining life for the tree-dwellers. And a portable Force-repellent bubble for the Inquisitor.

Of course, importing the Ysalimir onto the _Imminent Pursuit_ would cut off the Inquisitor from the force as well... in a sense. The Pau'an was not planning on cutting the Bridger child completely off from the Force. He was going to employ the Ysalimir for a much craftier purpose.

But in order for that step to be completed, the Inquisitor was also going to have to gain some sort of foot-hold on the boy. As of yet, the only 'sessions' he'd had with the child had been his test, the torture session with I-84-B, and the faked death report. It was time for the real work to begin.

The seeds of doubt and fear had been planted, and now watered with confusion and worry. It was time to begin chipping away at the cracks they made on the boy's mind, to split open wide the barriers that were standing between him and the ultimate tool.

The Inquisitor turned around, leaving the darkness of hyper-space behind him. He'd go and pay a visit to Bridger now, and see how far he had yet to go.

* * *

"I don't care how many times you ask, Baldy, the answer's still no."

The voice of Ezra Bridger floated out of his cell, greeting the Pau'an before he even opened the door. Raising a single eyebrow for the child, the Pau'an entered his holding area. It seemed that in his confusion and fear, the child was resorting to putting on a strong front in order to escape any further damage. This was a good sign.

"Well well well, aren't we just chipper this morning?" The Inquisitor padded in softly, closing the door behind him. The boy seemed to grow concerned that there was no one else, bot or otherwise, accompanying him in.

The Inquisitor examined him. The child had lost a few pounds, probably due to the sparing amounts of food he allowed himself to eat, and his skin was slightly gaunt. His orange pilot-suit was ripped and torn in places, as well as mostly soaked in old blood. Most of the administrations preformed by I-84-B had ignored his face, leaving it virtually blemish-free, but the healed scars on his arm and legs that showed through his ripped jump-suit proved that the bot had not been gentle.

"Well, I don't see how I could be anything else, after this outstanding hospitality." His voice was dripping with sarcasm, but the Inquisitor saw that the child had self-consciously shifted from his position in the corner to try and shield some of his worst injuries from the Pau'ans gaze. This was good. He was learning to fear the Inquisitor.

"That's good to hear. Now, how about I tell you something interesting?" The boy did not speak, but his face whitened slightly. He'd probably spent hours brooding over what had happened in the Inquisitor's last visit, just waiting for more news to add to his worry.

"We seem to have found a scrap of news about the... crew... that you affiliate yourself with."

As the child gave his worthless response, the Inquisitor sent out a subtle probe. A light whisper in the Force, he brushed up against the child's mind ever so slightly, nothing more than a breath of wind. As of yet, there was only a general barrier, one that a Jedi and his apprentice almost always had up than prevented Force persuasions and such.

But it was not being maintained. The rouge Jedi may have taught him the ways of the Force, but he had not taught the child how to enforce his teachings. Usually a Jedi maintained his barrier constantly, to prevent any tampering or Sith trickery. The young Padawan before him, however, merely had thrown it up in an attempt to prevent direct interference with his thoughts from the Inquisitor.

"Are you aware of the rebel's location, Bridger?" He cut across the words of the boy, deciding now was the time to advance the plan. The child abruptly stopped talking, and a look of yearning crossed over his features briefly. The barrier fluctuated as his focus was redirected momentarily, but it came back in full strength before the Inquisitor could use his opportunity. Now was not the time for infiltration, though. That would come.

"They were last seen on Tatooine, attacking a weapons transport." This was, of course, a complete lie. They had no idea where the _Ghost_ and her crew were. But the Inquisitor was a skilled enough liar to fool a single child with, for now, mediocre Force-talent.

As surprise and shock ran their courses through the young boy, the Inquisitor used the opportunity they created to slip behind the boy's mental defenses, which had for a brief second wavered. He was now successfully inside the boy's head, and if he had been lucky, the child would suspect nothing wrong.

"Now, what _possible_ purpose would they have over there? I do believe that Tatooine is on the other side of the Outer Rim... definitely very far away from here." This was good. The Inquisitor could almost see doubt take control of the boy's inner mind.

The Force could not be used as a 'mind-reader.' The mind was not an open book. It was a functioning organism which fluctuated every heart-beat, constantly changing, operating, sending pulses, and, as in the case of Bridger, thinking. Very hard.

The Force was not a device to 'read' in on other's thoughts. It could be used, however, to listen to another being's inner workings. It was nigh on impossible to completely re-write another being's mental code, but it was possible to plant almost sub-conscious thoughts, and let them rise up to the surface on their own.

The Inquisitor was very adept at doing such a thing.

Thus, when he could hear the boy's internal conflict through his newly established Force-bond with the child, the Inquisitor listened in eagerly, waiting for the opportune moment to send in his own device of wreckage.

_They wouldn't just leave me here..._

**But they did.**

_They must've had a reason..._

_And what reason would that be?_

_I..._

**You're grasping at straws.**

_No! Kanan and the others will come back! They did last time!_

_How does that guarantee they will this time?_

_They just will! I know it! They won't leave me here!_

**They've abandoned you.**

_No they haven't!_

_Then why are they on Tatooine?_

_They're probably refueling, or something like that. They're going to come for me._

**But why haven't they yet? It's been a long time...**

_And it took them a while last time as well. They will come._

**But what about the report? No one's going to look for a dead man...**

_They'll see through the Inquisitor's lies. They have to._

**But what if they don't?**

_They... I... How will they know?_

_They won't. They'll never know that I'm still alive. They'll give up on me._

_ Kanan would sense that I'm still here. He won't give up on me._

**Kanan isn't strong enough to defeat the Inquisitor.**

_He won't have to. I'll help him._

_From in the cell? That'll be fun to watch..._

_They'll come for me. And I'll be ready to take any chance that comes my way._

_I might die..._

_Better die trying that live with Baldy controlling me._

**B****ut they're not going to come.**

_They will come._

_They will come and I will be here for them._

The Inquisitor scowled. This was not how it was supposed to go.

**They abandoned you here. They left. They're on Tatooine.**

_But they'll come for me. I know that._

_They will come._

It was with a new determination that the child stared at the Inquisitor, who's only response was to stare right back into those blue eyes.

"I don't know what they're doing over on Tatooine, but whatever they're doing I salute them. The only way you bucket-heads would have seen them is if they blew up another transport. They're good at that, you know." He smirked a little, just to aggravate the Inquisitor.

He could sense that there was still a part of the boy that doubted. It was just buried far enough down that the Inquisitor couldn't reach it, couldn't drag it out into the light to be dissected. Instead, the child had pushed it down deep enough that hope won the battle and filled him.

For now.

"Well then. It seems you have a lot of faith in that...group... I just hope you're not disappointed when their true colors show." But his words seemed to have no effect on Bridger. This was most annoying.

Just as to make sure that his visit was no entirely in vain, the Inquisitor added in one more snippet before exiting the cell: "By the way, in a couple hours time, the broadcast that a certain rebel was extinguished will have been viewed across the entirety of the Outer Rim. As it is a substantial piece of news, it will be played for an entire week. After all, we want to be sure that _every_ citizen of the Empire is enlightened to this wondrous occasion."

It didn't deliver as much of an effect as the Inquisitor would have liked, but it did dislodge the doubting side of Bridger just ever so slightly, moving it into a better position for the Pau'an's purposes. But over all, this session had not gone as he had wanted.

It seemed that Bridger had yet to let go of the rebel crew he called 'family.'

More action was required. It would not be nearly as subtle, but the Inquisitor would allow for his ministrations to become slightly more obvious. He was just a child, after all.

Every day would begin with subtle Force-suggestions, further prompting the darker and doubting side of the child to emerge. I-84-B would also be brought out again, preferably directly after the Inquisitor finished his mental sessions with the child. Pain and fear would be his constant companions until he finally broke.

The Inquisitor would make sure of that.

* * *

**Ah, drama!**

**For anyone who had read the Thrawn trilogy, yes, the Ysalimir are taken from that. For anyone who hasn't: Ysalimir are, as stated above, furry lizards that live in trees on Myrkr. As there are Force-using predators on the planet, they naturally evolved a Force-repellant shield that extends about ten feet away from them. What the Inquisitor is planning to do with them is place them around the edges of the _Imminent Pursuit,_ (which I thought was a cool name for his flagship) and essentially block out any Force signatures from the outside. It's kind of like placing a bubble around the ship, where they can use the Force inside and outside of it, but neither side can sense the other. I hope I'm making enough sense with this!**

**And now, onwards to the next chapter!**


	13. Don't Doubt Our Strength

**Wow, I'm really making these chapters long... hope you guys like it!**

**Disclaimer: Fun fact! Star Wars: Rebels isn't mine!**

* * *

Hera blinked at the unfamiliar man. That was not Fulcrum.

The man waiting for them at the landing pad was short, almost as tall as Sabine. He was not fat, but he gave the aura of being well cared for. There was a thin layer of chub that clung to his cloths, making them bulge slightly. He had short brown hair, cut _almost_ to army regulations, but slightly longer. Even from this distance, Hera could see that it was thick with grease.

However, nothing else about the scene had changed from the other times that the _Ghost_ had delivered it's mission's goodies. The unpacking droids were still lined up a respectful distance away, ready to unload and reload the Tibanna gas capsules from the Ghost to the _Turn-point_, Fulcrum's ship, which was still parked in its' usual spot.

Deciding to give the new arrival the benefit of the doubt, Hera none the less made sure that her blaster was loose in its' holster. Too many years of experience refused to allow Hera not to do so. Looking to her left, the Twi'lek saw that Kanan was watching the new man as well, eyes narrowed. It was reassuring that in his self-doubt about Ezra, the man was still wary.

Sabine and Zeb, however, noticed nothing unusual. They'd never met Fulcrum before, so of course they wouldn't recognize something was up. It was only because of current events that both of their eyes were drooped, and that they seemed to want to get this done with as soon as possible.

Hera considered telling them that something was up, but decided against it. They'd find out soon enough that the man wasn't Fulcrum, and it would be better to have them approach the new comer without suspicion in their eyes. Nodding slightly to Kanan, Hera started down the ramp of the _Ghost_.

With each step closer, the more Hera's dislike of the man increased. He had a bored look to his face that indicated he thought their delivery as nothing more than a waste of his time, which, in their current condition, was not a good starting factor. This mission was the reason they hadn't gone back for Ezra yet. Anyone who viewed it with contempt would...sorely... regret it.

His hands were stuck in his pockets, though they were close enough to the weapons hanging from his belt to make Hera eye them warily. There were two belts strapped around his bulging chest, hanging with grenades and extra ammo for the two guns in their slings around his waist, and most probably the huge automatic firing weapon that hung from his back. Upon closer inspection, Hera saw that at almost all of the grenades were fake, simply pieces of metal and plastic designed to look like flash-bangs and gas distributors. Her dislike multiplied by a factor of two.

When the four Spectres were within talking distance, Hera saw that he was lazily chewing a piece of gum, letting it smack as loud as it could against his cheeks. Small black eyes watched them from his other wise bored face.  
Before Hera could inquire to his identity, however, the man spoke up, eyes on the _Ghost_.

"Is that it?" He had a drawling voice that _clearly _showed his distaste towards their meager ship and crew. Hera raised an eyebrow when he had graced the crew with his attention once more. "As long as we got the job done,what does it matter?"

The man responded with a sneer, then whipped out a small data pad. "You're Hera Syndulla, I presume?" Hera gave a curt nod, then motioned her head towards the rest of the Spectres behind her. "We're all cleared out with Fulcrum, so you can put that away." The man scowled, but stored the small device back in it's place. His eyes were darting around the rest of her crew, and it didn't miss Hera that Zeb and Sabine had noticed when she'd addressed the man as someone other than Fulcrum. Willing them not to interrupt, Hera plowed on.

"However, I don't recognize you as one of Fulcrum's lackeys. Who're you, and why isn't Fulcrum here to personally receive our cargo?" The little man once again gave her a spectacular sneer before saying, with as much contempt as he could manage, "Have you ever entertained the thought that you might just not be worth enough for Fulcrum to come here himself, hmm? Ever deflated your ego enough to consider the possibility that there's someone more special than _you_, hmm?"

Hera burst out laughing. Whoever this man was, he was obviously a newbie at his job. Kanan stepped in for her, recognizing she wouldn't be able to talk for a while.

"Why should we "deflate our egos"? After all, we're only the most active ship in the Rebellion... I can't see that alone not making us one of the most respectable ships in our little fleet. The real question you should be asking, is who are _you_ to delay _us_, hmm?" He mimicked the little man's tone at he very end, making him go a subtle, if nasty, red.

After a few seconds, however, it passed, and he was standing there giving them the same calculating look as before. If a little more observant.

"My _apologies_..." He mimicked a little bow. "I go by the name of Axle. Of course, it's not my real name, but you know... only the _expendable_ ones are listed by their real names." He motioned to his data pad with an ugly grin, and Hera had to actively suppress the urge to narrow her eyes dangerously. She noticed that Sabine had failed to control her physique, and was looking at the little man through her helmet as though she would like nothing more to strangle him. Hera shared her wants dearly.

"As for who I may be to delay you, well... just the next apprentice in line to Fulcrum himself. I don't know about you, but I'd say that makes us... equals..." Kanan snorted. "I doubt that."

Hera took out her own data pad. "What's your identity pin?" A small number of seven digits, the identity pin was the numbers that the rebels used in the field to acknowledge one another. The higher up the digits, the higher the status... although they had to follow a certain algebraic equation to make them valid. Hera called it the 'happy primes' equation.

Axle scowled, but gave her his pin. Seeing that it was, indeed, valid, Hera looked at Kanan and gave a stiff nod. Axle was indeed, it seemed, to be Fulcrums apprentice. Why the man would choose someone as... repulsive as Axle Hera could only wonder, but the man was smart. He wouldn't choose just anyone to succeed him. In some way, shape or form, Axle must make up for what he lacked in manners. Hera hoped.

After that, Hera left matters to her Jedi friend. She'd seen that Sabine'd wanted to talk to her, and so drew the young girl to the side slightly. She still was keeping an eye on Axle, as the Twi'lek wasn't quite sure if she trusted him enough not to weasel Kanan out of their hard earned credits.

"Hera, please, we need to wrap this up quickly." Hera gave her full attention to Sabine, and saw the artist was nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot. She looked her in the eyes, prompting the young girl to continue.

"We have to go back, as soon as possible. I don't-" Sabine cut herself off and looked away. Hera thought she understood what was going through the young girl's mind.

"You're worried about Ezra." It was not a question, they were all worried for heir youngest crew member. But Sabine nodded anyway, and seemed to gain courage from the simple action. She continued.

"Ever since that day when we dropped off Tseebo, whenever we've run into that... that... freak," Hera knew she was talking about the Inquisitor, "he seemed really interested in Ezra. I... I don't know what happened on that asteroid, but it's made Ezra a target since. Whatever the line-freak is doing to him, I know it can't be good. I'm just worried that...that..." Sabine's voice cracked a little, but she kept on going.

"I'm just worried that he'll be taken into the Dark Force, or whatever Kanan calls it." Hera gave the girl a half smile, despite her own worries about Spectre 6.

"Sabine. Ezra's been with us for a good while now. You know him better than that. I don't think there's a single thing that'd turn Ezra from us, or into the Dark side of the Force. He's just too strong for the Inquisitor. I'm almost certain of it, when we come in and rescue Ezra, it'll be just like last time. No harm done." Sabine still looked skeptical, but Hera continued.

"Ezra's a good kid. He's not gonna abandon us that easy." The Mando girl gave Hera a small smile, and was just about to give her thanks when Kanan raised his voice from over where he was.

"That's obviously a scam!" Axle growled at him, almost a full foot shorter than the Jedi. "Like I told you, we just received a shipment of tibanna gas not three days ago!"

"That doesn't reduce it's value!"

Axle actually pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, still managing to give Kanan his best glare. "When the need for the product decreases, so does the price. That's. Basic. Money. Handling."

Kanan shook his head, looking equally frustrated. "In a typical market, maybe, but this is a Rebellion! Any and every material we can get is extremely valuable, especially something as useful as tibanna gas!"

"We may be in a Rebellion, but that doesn't change how the system works!"

"You mean the system we're trying to overthrow currently?!"

"NO! I mean the system that's been around since before the Republic, you blithering idiot! I'd think you were a Jedi, spouting all this nonsense! What next, are you going to declare slavery is bad for business?!"

Hera knew it before Axle had even finished his sentence. He'd crossed over the line. Not only had he managed to insult both the Jedi name and the basic needs of the Rebellion and her crew, but the slimy git had actually gone so far as to hint that slavery- the very concept that had half of her race locked up in chains -was a good concept.

Before, anyone who'd seen Hera's and Kanan's reactions to this notion would say that they were childish, living in the set of mind that everyone was equal, while they were clearly not. They knew that. They knew that genetics created superior species and inferior species. That did not give any grease-ball the right to actively take possession of another life-form and force it into doing his bidding. Slavery was not- NOT -in either Kanan's or Hera's book of acceptable things in the galaxy. Granted, most things that they saw fell into the category of not being okay with it; but slavery was at the very top of the list of things the crew of the _Ghost_ could not stand and would not abide for.

As such, it was only because the logical part of her brain had taken over of her bodily movements that she hadn't attempted to strangle Axle. She was the only thing stopping the Jedi from doing such, as it was. He wasn't physically attempting to claw at the man, but Hera could read it in his face that if the Twi'lek hadn't stepped in to separate the two men, Axle would be very sore indeed.

She turned to face Kanan quickly, and gave him a warning look that snapped him back into his sense. She hoped. They needed Axle very much alive and co-operating if they were to procure the necessary parts to fix the _Ghost_, as they were missing quite a few. The only way that would happen was if Axle remained very much un-strangled.

"Leave this to me, Kanan." She turned her focus back to the glowering man to her side. He only came up to about half of her chest.

"How much are you offering us for..." Hera did a quick head count of the capsules, "twenty-eight barrels of tibanna gas, plus some extra fruits, vegetables, and weapons?" Axle snorted, but replied to her question.

"A hundred and five credits, no more!" It was indeed a scandal. Usually, this load would be worth almost two hundred credits, minus the extra rations and guns. Altogether, it would've been closer to two-fifty.

But Sabine's pleas stuck with Hera, and she knew herself that time was of the essence. There would be no use in trying to haggle Axle upwards, he wasn't the type to be easily intimidated or persuaded, and Hera needed the parts on top of that.

"We'll take it, if you'll supply us with the necessary components to fix our ship." Hera saw Axle's eyes drift towards the _Ghost_, assessing the damages it had taken and how much material would be needed to fix it up. It was quite a lot, Hera knew herself, but she could only hope that this little man might find it somewhere inside of him to allow them their needed goods.

"Ninety-five credits and half the parts." Apparently not.

"Ninety and all the parts."

"Seventy-five."

"We have more than just tibanna gas, and some of those weapons aren't cheap."

"Eighty-five and all the parts."

Hera narrowed her eyes, knowing it was a _bad_ deal. But she nodded her assent, and the two shook hands on it. The Twi'lek could hear Kanan scoffing in the background, and felt like joining in. This little slime had earned her dis-like before they'd even spoken, but now he had her full revulsion after just being in her presence for little over five minutes. That had to be a record of some sort.

Axle waved over one of the workers with an empty hand, and the droid bumbled about towards them. It looked like a small pancake with arms and legs, just large enough for a man to stand on it. Hera even doubted that the thing would be able to take any command other than 'lift,' 'lower,' and 'move,' but it seemed to understand Axle perfectly clear.

"Go on board the _Turn-Point_ and bring out the metals we've collected. Call out the worker bots as well, I'm sure our friends here will need as much help as they can get to fix their...ship." He poke the last word as though implying that the _Ghost_ was a bucket of bolts. And this time, it was Kanan stopping Hera from launching at the man.

* * *

Sabine didn't like Axle. Not one bit. He was just plain... annoying, and got under not just her skin, but the rest of the Spectres as well. When he'd mentioned slavery, all of them had tensed, and it was only after that Sabine'd had to try her hardest not to tackle the small man to the ground and leave him with one of her miracles.

When he'd unfairly ripped off Hera and Kanan, Sabine had actually had to be held back by Zeb, the Lasat growling in her ear that they needed Axle if they had any hope of getting the kid back. Relinquishing her urges to throttle the man towards common sense, Sabine only stared nastily at him from thence forth.

While their predicament had nothing to do with the man, Sabine thoroughly enjoyed pinning some form of blame on Axle, and so she'd blamed him for holding the crew of the _Ghost_ from repairing their ship and rescuing Ezra. Not that it mattered, of course. Sabine could blame whoever she wanted, it wouldn't make her feel better. Not when she knew Ezra was probably being tortured.

Sabine couldn't dwell on it though. If she thought too long about Ezra, she'd begin to mope. That wouldn't help anyone on the _Ghost_ in anyway. Sabine was still considered a kid, but she could be thoughtful when she wanted.

There was nothing they could do until the _Ghost_ was repaired. Until then, Sabine would just have to trust Hera's word that Ezra would be okay until they got there. Even though she knew that the Twi'lek was repeatedly telling herself that. But that didn't stop Sabine from imagining the most painful ways to kill a certain man...

There were no more incidents while the droids finished their unloading. Axle fished around in his large pockets before drawing about a rather large purse, and Sabine saw that the human male was absolutely loaded with credits. He could've doubled their payment if he'd wanted to and not felt he slightest dent in his wallet.

Sabine continuously scowled at the man since that... occurrence, and so when the joyous occasion of their departure arrived, the Mandolorian didn't hear the first time around.

"Sabine." Hera repeated loudly, stirring her from the contented musings of pain she'd wished on the man. With only a quick glance at Axle, Sabine went to follow Hera and the others back onto the _Ghost_.

However, Axle hadn't quite finished jibing them yet.

"Sheesh, with brains like yours, it's no wonder one of your crew member's missing." At that, all four Spectres turned as one to face the small man, who was currently standing on the very edge of the _Ghost_'s landing ramp.

"Excuse me? Did you say we had a missing crew member?" Hera spoke first, though everyone else payed rapt attention.  
Axle put on a stupid little half sneer, as though he enjoyed taunting them. Well. He probably did.

"This little data pad here gives me the names of _all_ the crew members... hadn't you picked that up yet?" He waved around the small piece of metal that Hera'd bullied him into putting away before. "And according to this, one Ezra Bridger is not present... I assume, then, that this is why you accepted my 'scam?'"

"You knew you were ripping us off, but you still-" Kanan put an arm in front of Zeb, effectively cutting the Lasat off, and said quietly: "Yes. We're going to get him back." And he turned away, looking to leave the rest of the crew alone with Axle as to not brutally murder him.

"Oh really, now?" Axle still wanted to toy with fate. "Well, I'd say good-luck, but you're gonna need a lot more than luck to pull this guy out of whatever trouble he's gotten into. Hell, you'd be better off to just leave the kid on his own! If you guys, a rag-tag group of misfits was able to avoid capture and this little squirt wasn't, he must be truly weak or retarded or _something_. Why, when I was a boy, if someone wa-"

Axle wasn't able to finish his sentence, however, as Sabine had pinned him to the wall of the _Ghost_'s boarding area by his throat. She wasn't the strongest of the group, but even she could hold up the tiny man with her arm. This time, no one held her back. They were all too busy trying to stop themselves from joining her.

The little man was kicking feebly, but Sabine didn't care. She pressed her helmet against the man's terrified face, glad of the intimidating look it gave her. She wasn't even quite sure that the little man could understand her, but that didn't stop Sabine from growling fiercely:

"Don't. You. Dare. Talk about Ezra as though he's some little snobby kid. I don't care if your Fulcrum's apprentice or his boss, if you insult Ezra one more time I swear, I will rip you limb. From. Limb. And if you even DARE to doubt in our strength... in our bond to him, you won't be daring anything else for a long time. He's coming back here, and nothing will stop that. NOTHING."

And with that, Sabine roughly dropped him to the deck, spluttering, and she stomped away towards her room. As if anyone, ANYONE could doubt about them getting Ezra back... humph. She hoped that Hera dumped the ungrateful git in hyperspace.

Sabine threw her helmet into her room, not caring where it landed, and grabbed a paint sprayer. She angrily began crossing out one of her earlier paintings, a lightsaber with a blade of multi-colors, and started painting something different. It was only when the hum of the hyper-space engines sounded throughout the ship that Sabine took a moment to see what she was painting.

An over-sized stormtrooper helmet was on it's top, exposing the depression within. Inside of it stood the crew of the _Ghost_: Chopper was inside, whirring around in the helmet, causing the other members to begin losing their balance. All of the crew was there: Kanan, sitting on the rim, seemingly enjoying the exercise in balance; Hera, who was outside of the helmet watching the chaos with a smile; Zeb, who was scrambling after Chopper trying to stop him; herself, trying to stand up straight in the depression and wobbling dangerously, and Ezra. He was hanging off of the rim, still on the inside, but with such a look of pure mirth on his face that Sabine's heart nearly broke.

That was how they should be. They should be running around, making the Imp's heads spin, laughing at the chaos it created. Not on separate sides of the galaxy, dealing with jerks and line-freaks. Sabine didn't even know what was happening to Ezra. None of them did, except maybe Kanan, who if he did seemed determined to not fall into self-doubt or to bring the others with him. And if they were a crew... if they had ever once been like what her drawing showed... everyone needed to be together. They just simply didn't fit without one another.

It wasn't just Ezra. They were all a family, and they all needed each-other. If Kanan had been the one to get captured, or Hera, or Zeb, or even herself, the situation would still be the same. They were a family: a messed up one, for sure, but they were still a family. They looked out for one another. Cared for one another. Helped one another.

And if they were going to stay a family, that was exactly what they were going to do.

* * *

**I just wanted to say, I had the hardest time writing Axle. I just couldn't get him to be the amount of annoying I wanted him to be, and it frustrated me to no end. But I hope you guys liked (well, in this case I guess _didn't_ like) him!**


	14. A Flash in the Dark

**Oooh, this is a good one. I do feel slightly bad for what's gonna happen with Kanan, but it's necessary. Read on!**

**Disclaimer: Disney is not mine. Therefor, Rebels isn't either.**

* * *

Kanan was alone in his room.

That wasn't odd, most of the members of the _Ghost_ were. Even Hera had spent enough time in the cockpit that it had been dubbed 'hers.' There wasn't much for anyone to do.

Repairs had taken shorter than anyone had expected. While the outside had been properly patched together by Axel's droids, the inside circuitry that Chopper hadn't been able to re-wire had been a mess. But because there was nothing else to do, it had squared itself away pretty quickly.

Now, the only thing happening was traveling. They were heading back to the Outer Rim, towards the asteroid where Ezra had been kidnapped on, to try and search for clues about where he could be now. They didn't have much else to go on.  
But that would take days: days that were otherwise filled with brooding and guilt.

Kanan sighed. Hera had done her best to drag him out of his stupor, but she had only partially succeeded. He was not so naive to think that there was nothing else he could have done to save Ezra. It was his fault that his Padawan hadn't been able to defend himself. If he had just been a little faster, more focused, more determined, he could've seen the Tie, could've sensed it, gotten out of the way.

Instead he had been weak. Slow. Un-focused. Afraid.

Everything a Jedi was not.

Kanan had only been a child when the Jedi Order had fallen. Granted, most Jedi children were expected to be able to control themselves to some degree, to grow up following the ways of the Jedi. Kanan hadn't been too successful at that when he was a Padawan. Now he wasn't a child. And he still couldn't follow the rules right.

And because of his mental failure to do what had been ingrained in him since the age of two, Ezra was now suffering.  
Kanan wasn't just speculating that, either. He wasn't just making the worst out of the situation to try and deepen his guilt. He would sometimes feel, though muted, Ezra's cries for help through their Master-Apprentice bond. During the first few days after he had been taken, the pleas had been few and far between. Now, they were constant, almost timed, everyday. It was as though the Inquisitor was anxious to cause him pain. What frustrated Kanan to no end was that there was no way for him to reach out to Ezra, to console him. His Force signature just wasn't strong enough. There was no way of completely blocking off one's reception to the Force: it flowed in and through all life-forms, connecting them, holding them together. But whatever the Inquisitor had done to his apprentice, Kanan couldn't connect with him, no matter how hard he tried.

It was almost as if the Force was taunting him; showing him a tasty scrap of meat before whipping it away at the last second. But Kanan knew better. The Force was the Force. It didn't have a personality or a set way of being, it just was. It did as it saw fit. Nothing more. Kanan just wished that it could do so a little less painfully.

A knock echoed through the metal walls, originating from his door. No doubt it was Hera, coming to stop him from judging himself to hard. The Twi'lek always seemed to be able to read him like an open book, no matter how hard Kanan tried to close himself to her.

"Come in," he said, voice cracking from disuse. He rose from his sitting position on his bunk to look at Hera. But it wasn't the friendly green-faced Twi'lek's emerald eyes that bore into him as soon as the door opened.

It was Zeb's big neon green ones.

"Well, this is a surprise. Whatcha need?" He rubbed at a crick in his neck that'd come from sitting down to long.  
The Lasat exhaled a large breath before talking.

"Well, y'see, Kanan... the Empire's broad-casted a message. Out to all of the Outer Rim. We... we intercepted it, 'cause we just now crossed over into Outer Rim territory, see, and well..." Kanan raised an eyebrow. Zeb was being hesitant, almost cautious.

Zeb was never cautious.

"They say that... well, you better just come and listen." His eyes narrowed slightly. "It's not pretty."

Dread took it's faithful place beside the knot of worry in Kanan's chest. As Zeb headed out into the corridors outside, Kanan followed him, and with every step his trepidation increased. What could put a tough guy like Zeb on edge? He was clearly tense, the way he moved and held himself. Kanan tried opening himself to the Force, to try and see what was bothering the Lasa-

Pain.

Excruciating pain.

Every nerve in his body felt on fire, and his blood boiled like magma. It numbed his senses, until the only thing that Kanan was aware of was the cool metal panels of the floor on his cheek... In the recesses of his mind, Kanan could hear screaming, as though from an animal, but also laughter. In-human, predatorily laughter that sent shivers down his spine, though it seemed on fire.

And then it stopped. As abruptly as it had come, it was over; Kanan was left shaking on the ground while Zeb peered over him anxiously. He was on the floor of the Ghost, and from what he could tell, completely unharmed in anyway.

"Kanan, what in all the galaxy just happened?!" But Kanan payed the Lasat no mind. He was focusing too hard.

Up until now, the only thing he had felt from Ezra were twinges, nothing more than markers of the pain his apprentice had been going through. But that... not only would Ezra have had to been fully connected to the Force, he would have also had to be relatively close to the _Ghost_...

Foolishly, Kanan actually looked up and down the halls, as if hoping to see a glimpse of navy hair whipping around the corner. What he did see was the junction that led to the cockpit.

In a second, Kanan was up on his feet and thundering down towards the bridge. He almost didn't even register the fact that Zeb was shouting at him; his task was too important. If he didn't act now, or didn't act fast enough, they would miss their chance to rescue Ezra from the Inquisitor until who knew how long. Zeb could wait.

Chopper came strolling out of the corridor, from the hanger, but Kanan spared no time for maneuvers: he lept over the astromech, using him to push himself further towards the bridge. The indignant squeals of dis-approval fell upon ears that did not care in the slightest.

"Hera! Stop the _Ghost_ now!" His sudden appearance in the cock-pit startled the Twi'lek, making her visibly jump in her seat. But after having spent a while in the company of her rouge Jedi friend, she trusted him implicitly and pulled the ship out of hyper-space. But she was not the sort that had blind obedience wired into her, much the opposite.  
"Kanan, what in stars' name was that for? And why do you look like you just saw a ghost?!"

A rumble of "That's what I wanted to know as well," from behind him told Kanan that Zeb had caught up.

"I just felt him. Ezra. He was close, _really _close, Hera. We must have passed right under the ship he was on in hyper-space..." Hera's eyes widened, and she paled, but otherwise accepted what he was saying. Kanan was glad she had a cooler head than he did, sometimes.

"What? Kanan, that's impos-" Zeb, apparently, was not as willing to trust Kanan's validity.

"Zeb, it's not impossible. I felt him, he was..." Kanan paused, not wanting to spook the pair, but continued on anyways to avoid further questioning and wastes of time; "he was under torture, that's why I could feel it so vividly. Pain has a greater impact on the mind than pleasure, you see."

"But if you couldn't sense him before now, what's changed?"

"I don't know, maybe his Force-inhibiter wore off or something, but I know it was him. And he was heading..." Kanan closed his eyes, replaying the memory and trying to reconnect with Ezra in the Force while he did so. "He went straight across from us. Towards... I don't know what planet it is, but it's that way." He pointed in a direction slightly to the left of where they had been heading, and he could almost hear Hera calculating the risks.

Of course, Zeb did so verbally.

"Kanan, we can't, there's been a new development-" Both Kanan and Hera turned towards the Lasat, who seemed to shrink slightly. "Both Sabine and I think that you should come and... and take a look at the Imperial report."

Kanan did not like this at all. Zeb had never been one to disagree with Kanan's Force-abilities, no matter if he didn't understand him. He just trusted Kanan to be right- which he was, most of the time. But there was no doubt in the Jedi's mind. His apprentice had passed over him, heading away from them, towards an un-known planet, with an un-known fate. Kanan wasn't going to let Ezra go that easily, especially if he could help it.

But for Zeb to disagree with him on a matter this sensitive... the report he had mentioned must have said some pretty bad things to discourage him so. Kanan was just about to ask Zeb what exactly had been said when the doors swished open, letting a helmeted-Sabine and a grumbling Chopper into the bridge. Sabine was carrying a small metal box which Kanan recognized to be the _Ghost_'s off-world comm.

"You guys need to listen to this." She set it down in the co-pilot's chair, and flipped a switch. Kanan guessed that Sabine had recorded this particular clip, as it started from what seemed like the very beginning of a news broad-cast.

_"Aside from the most recent development in blasters, we have some more happy news from our friends in the Imperial Security Bureau. Agent Kallus, if you will."_

_"Thank you. Yes, we are very happy indeed to announce that one of the Outer Rim's most wanted rebel, young Ezra Bridger, has been properly punished for disturbing the peace and people's lives. He was captured just five days ago, and in that time, not only have we managed to weed out the location of several of his rebel gang members, but also- and I am glad to finally to announce this- was executed. While he may have looked young and innocent, this boy was the cause to no end of trouble for the dwellers of the Empire."_

_Is this true? Can my ears believe it? You've finally put a stop to the rebel's activities?_

_Unfortunately, no, we were not able to stop all of the rebels. But, let this message stand as a warning to any further 'uprisings': should you stand up to us, should you try and destroy the peace that centuries of hard work has built, this will be your end result._

At that, a terrible scream came through the small black box. It was raw and wild, speaking of nothing but pain and suffering. Zeb's ears folded down. Sabine turned her head away from the comm. Hera's eyes sparkled unusually bright. Even Chopper seemed humbled at the raw sense of hurt that was emanating from the simple device. Kanan himself could do nothing but stare at the speakers from which his Padawan's screams were emanating.

_Well now. I certainly must say, well done! Now that you've caught one rat, you can catch them all! We can finally sleep in our beds with a little peace. Thank you, Agent Kallus. And now, to move onto the recently developed ground-vehi-_

Sabine flicked off the radio. Echoes of Ezra's screaming seemed to reverberate off of the walls of the _Ghost_, though it had long since past. Maybe they were echoing around inside Kanan's head. Whatever the case, it was a while before anyone spoke.

"Guys, I...I don't..." Sabine seemed not to be able to coherently string together a sentence. Kanan also strongly suspected tears to be flowing down her usually bright face. He shook his head, though, not for a single second doubting his previous connection to his Padawan.

"Don't believe a word of it." His voice was strong, not shaking like Sabine's or Zeb's. He looked the former in her eyes, through the helmet. She drew in a breath, apparently pitying him. Kanan shook his head again.

"Sabine, just a few moments ago I connected to Ezra in the Force. He's alive, I'm certain of that." He left out the part that he wasn't sure of how long he would stay that way.

"Kanan, what if you just felt his...what if you just felt him die right now?" Zeb asked the un-answered question. Kanan paused, running the possibility through his head. It was quickly shot down.

"Death feels completely different, believe me I know. Even if I'm dead wrong, if... if Ezra has been killed by the Empire, than who are we to not give out vengeance to any ship in the area? There was definitely an Imperial ship that flew above us. And if I'm right, as I am, then where else would we look for Ezra? We don't have any other clues except this one."

Sabine was staring straight at him through her Mando helmet. Zeb was staring at the floor, calculating. Hera cleared her throat.

"Do we really need to vote on this? Because no matter what you guys say, I'm following Kanan. Like he said, it's the only lead we have. And this isn't the first time the Imps have tried to trick us. If you two aren't coming, get in the _Phantom_ and wait here, because nothing you say is going to stop me." Lasat and Mandolorian looked at one another, then turned back towards Kanan.

"We're coming."

* * *

**Excitment! Where will this feeling lead the crew?! Read the next chapter to find out!**

**~Also, to anyone who caught on last chapter, I did include 'happy-primes' from Doctor Who. ;p**


	15. Flare of Hope

_**WOW,**_** I think this is gonna be the longest chapter EVAR. But it's worth it, there's so much stuff going on! Hope you guys love it as much as I do!**

**Disclaimer: Rebels. An amazing show. An amazing, Disney owned show.**

* * *

Ezra massaged his now thoroughly sore throat.

It hadn't been fun, these last few weeks. Had he been here weeks? Or had his sense of time gone completely out of wack? Ezra couldn't tell anymore.

Each 'morning,' Ezra had either been awake for or awoken by the same torture bot as before; he had taken to dubbing it 'Chip,' inspired by his most _favorite_ astromech in the galaxy. He could tell it was the same because, during one 'session,' he had lashed out against the robot and kicked it. While it did nothing to stop Chip from continuing it's mission, it had created a small dent in the otherwise smooth shell of metal. The droid that had been repeatedly coming in always had the same dent, so Ezra had simply assumed that they sent in Chip every time instead of rotating between multiple droids.

Usually, the droids were supposed to systematically break down an Imperial prisoner. While it was no picnic being in the vicinity of one, Ezra wasn't that intimidated by it. Sure, it hurt like hell, but nothing could touch Ezra's bubble of hope. Well, nothing except his own doubts. But those he could keep at bay. For now, at least.

But as for right now, the reason why Ezra was feeling uncomfortable- more so than usual- was because in the middle of Chip's morning sessions, the almost-always administered Force-inhibitor had worn off. Ezra had begun to think that that was an impossibility, but he guessed that the Empire could make mistakes as well.

He had used that one, pure moment of connection to reach out for Kanan, to let him know where he was, so that he could finally get out of this place, but he had no idea if it had worked or not. Ezra had never been that good at long-distance Force sensing even while meditating. In that seemingly instant moment where he had full access to the Force, he had been under torture. He had absolutely no idea if he had even reached out to Kanan or not.

Now, Ezra could've kicked himself for not doing the sensible thing and forcing Chip away from him so that he actually _could_ focus.

Well, even if he had, Ezra doubted that he would've been able to accomplish anything other than what he had done. Seemingly instantaneously, the Inquisitor had rushed into Ezra's cell, a look of fury on his face. He'd enjoyed frustrating the Pau'an to no end, but the Inquisitor had made it quite clear that _he_ did _not_.

Chip had been sent away early, and instead the Inquisitor had personally saw to Ezra's punishment. He had not been gentle. While Chip was blades and injections, the Pau'an was mind-attacks and lightsaber burns. The Force-choking didn't help either.

It had taken all of Ezra's strength to maintain the barriers that Kanan had painstakingly taught him to raise. He knew that if he didn't while under direct assault, he would become the Inquisitor's faster than you could say 'Jedi.' It hadn't been easy.

Now, to go along with his numerous cuts and bruises, Ezra had a few shiny burns on his sides. They hurt like the devil when he shifted his position, and he had a feeling that they would linger for far longer than the other mundane injuries.

Luckily, his left arm had been spared.

His throat, however, was a different matter. Not only had it's only uses been to shout itself hoarse from pain and insulting a particular Pau'an, it had been nearly crushed by said Baldy. When Kanan and the others got him out of here, it would need some serious rest. He knew that a certain Lasat would take only too kindly to this.

In his current situation it was bringing respite only to the Inquisitor, and perhaps Chip. Baldy no longer had to deal with continuous insults and rejections, only stares of death that Ezra managed to conjure every time he walked in with his offer. Chip, meanwhile, had the satisfaction of knowing his talents were yielding even better results than before, as now he didn't even have to do anything specifically to his throat to make it burn and crack.

But his throat and bodily injuries wouldn't bring him down. The Inquisitor said that the _Ghost_ had been seen on Tatooine. That meant that her crew was still alive, at least. They were probably picking up parts to repair the _Ghost_, which _had_ taken quite a beating on the asteroid. Either that or they were picking up some sort of weapon which would help them to take back Ezra. He had absolute faith that they were coming back for him, though. No matter what his sub-consciousness said to him.

Even if there was a small part of his mind that doubted his crew, Ezra had learned long ago to do whatever it takes to survive. If that meant locking out a whole category of thoughts from entering his brain, so be it. He wouldn't let himself doubt Kanan. Or Hera. Or Zeb. Or Sabine. Or even little Chopper. Because if he did... there was no telling how much longer Ezra would survive in the Empire's clutches.

Still, though. He had been more doubtful than usual. It had started when Baldy had told him of their sighting on Tatooine. Was there still a part of him that was convinced there was no going back for people? Maybe. Either than or something far more sinister...had the Inquisitor gained access to Ezra's mind? Impossible. His metal defenses had been up ever since he'd been captured. There was no way that the Pau'an could've infiltrated his mind. Unless-

No. If he was going to survive, he had to remain strong. Undermining his though process itself would only harm him.  
Ezra exhaled through his nose. As painful as it was to move with his new scars and scabs and welts, he shifted his body into a position of meditation. The first one that Kanan had taught him.

_"You have to cross your legs, like so," Kanan said, demonstrating with his own._

_"Why? Does it improve your media-chlorine or something?"_

_"Midi-chlorians, and as a matter of fact, no. It helps you concentrate better. Now come on, sit down."_

_Ezra snorted, but did as his new Master instructed him to. The floor of the /emGhostem was cold, seeping in through Ezra's thin jump-suit and chilling the skin underneath._

_"Close your eyes."_

_He raised an eyebrow, but complied._

_"Now, focus."_

_"On what?"_

_"On the Force."_

_"Gee, thanks. How do I do that?"_

_"Just... relax. Let your mind feel around you."_

_"Huh?"_

_"Just imagine it in your head, it'll make sense later."_

_"Whatever you say..."_

_Silence passes as Ezra visibly relaxes. Kanan can see that he really is trying to follow Kanan's instructions, as vague as they were. A small smile adorns his face as he remembers his own master saying the exact same thing to him._

_"I...I think I got it..."_

_Kanan stretches out in the Force to feel for Ezra's signature, and is mildly surprised. He managed to connect to the Force on his first meditation. It wasn't a strong connection, but it was a start._

_"Not bad, Ezra. Not bad. Can you tell me what Zeb's doing?"_

_"Um, sleeping?"_

_"Not with your head, dummy. With the Force. Try and find his signature."_

_"How can I tell which one's him?"_

_"...Which one?"_

_"Yeah! There are three little specks of life in the Ghost, and then there's you right in front of me. How do I tell the difference between Zeb, Hera, and Sabine?"_

_Kanan is now fully impressed. It had taken him several tries to 'see' that much depth into the Force. Keeping it from his voice, however, he continued on:_

_"Well, which one feels most like him?"_

_"Oh, come on, that's like asking me which planet has water based on their name alone."_

_"Well, you better now your planets, 'cause that's what I'm asking. What room is Zeb in?"_

_Silence. Then, "The main deck."_

_Hoping to prod Ezra further into the Force, Kanan inquired: "And what's he feeling?"_

_Ezra opens his eyes, giving his mentor an exasperated look. "Well, if it's anything close to annoyance, I'm with him."_

_Kanan laughs. "You know Ezra, I like you. And I can tell you're going to be very interesting to train."_

_Ezra blinks, before smiling slightly back at Kanan. He's not been 'liked' for a while now, and it's good to know that people are still capable of doing such a thing._

_It was the first step towards creating the Master-Padawan bond that they would come to share in the coming year._

He was not hoping to stretch out into the Force as he had done so many times before. That was almost impossible now, with the numerous amounts of Force-inhibitors injected into him now-a days. He was merely seeking a way to pass the time that wasn't seeing how far he could stretch his scabs.

He'd stopped trying to care for his wounds. It was pointless to, as they were immediately opened the next day, courtesy of Chip. They would either heal on their own, or be poked and prodded at some more the next day. His body learned quickly. Ezra doubted that they would become infected, as the cell he was kept in was by no means dirty. It might, on occasion, be dark, but the sterile cleanliness of the Imperials was not lost on his cell.

The Inquisitor had gone to lengths to ensure that Ezra did not escape again. His daily (he assumed it was daily, at any rate) meal was pushed through a slip of metal much like the ones used at the banks of Lothal, which, when not in use, was guarded by a force-field. Even if the blue sheet of energy was absent, the shaft was too small for Ezra to fit through. He'd tried.

Even when Chip was escorted in and out, he was followed by either the Inquisitor or a bucket-head, to ensure that Ezra wouldn't use the opportunities to leap from his cell. Well, he was usually so numb when Chip left that he could barely feel his limbs, but that didn't stop the Imps from also posting round-the-clock guards on the entrance of his room.

Before, Ezra had had the advantage of surprise, and that the troopers weren't willing to shoot their superior's prize. Now, the bucket-heads were expecting resistance at all times, and he had a nasty feeling that Baldy had not told his troopers to hold back- in any way, shape or form.

Ezra concentrated on nothing but breathing. The steady in and out of air. He would inhale deeply, expanding his chest until it just started to cause discomfort to his major wounds, then exhale, slowly, calmly. The Inquisitor was doing his best to un-hinge him, and he was doing his best to remain hinged.

While he was meditating, he also focused on his inner defenses. They had taken a bad beating when the Inquisitor had gone on his rampage, but through steady exercises such as this, he'd gradually re-built them. Ezra was not going to let the Pau'an forcibly take him from Kanan, or sever their bond. He had to maintain a constant vigilance over his mental boundaries, as he suspected that the Inquisitor started the day with worming his way into Ezra's subconsciousness.  
Perhaps that really was where his negative doubt came from...

The door opened, and Ezra opened his eyes to look at his visitor. Chip rolled into the room, already extending the first applicant of the day.

The Inquisitor may have once told the storm-troopers to hold back on him, but he had certainly not told Chip to do the same.

* * *

Ezra didn't know if he was in a state of consciousness or not when it happened. He was rudely awakened from his state of groggy pain-sleep by a loud '_BOOM.'_ Assuming it to be an Imperial training exercise, he rolled over onto his other side, trying to get comfy on the hard slab of metal that he had labeled his bed. There was no point in losing what precious little sleep he had to some dumb cannon firing.

_Boom._

Ezra gritted his teeth in discomfort. This couldn't be on purpose, the bucket-heads needed their sleep as much as Ezra did. The drill would probably end in a minute or two. And if Ezra could get to sleep before then: all the better.

_Boom._

This one was accompanied by a vibration that shook Ezra, making his side hurt painfully. He thought he felt a scab on his leg open up again. Ezra scowled, vowing to make his death-stare in the morning twice as intensive.

_BOOM._

With that, Ezra actually fell off the slab he called 'bed.' A sharp stab of pain emanated from almost all the points of his body that came into contact with the cold floor, causing him to cry out in pain.

"Stupid bucket-heads! Couldn't you do your training in the morning like normal people?!" Although, that was odd, he'd never seen canons on this part of the ship before... and firing relatively small canons to this big of a ship shouldn't have made it shudder like that...

_BOOM._

Sirens started going off outside of his cell. Ignoring the spikes of pain it caused, Ezra quickly crawled over to the shoot that his food was distributed through. He could see red lights flashing in the corridors, and after a moment or two, half a dozen troopers ran to the right of his cell and out of sight, armor clanking as they went.

Something big was happening. And Ezra had an idea of what it was.

Before, his lack of escape from his cell had slightly bothered him. Now, it frustrated him to no end. His crew was out there trying to rescue him, and here he was, stuck like some sort of child needing to be rescued. A small voice in his head told him he _was_ a child in need of rescue, but he ignored it. The urge to do something overpowered his reason.

_BOOM._

The shots seemed to be centered either directly above or somewhere really close to his cell, as they were only increasing in volume and intensity. Restlessness overcoming his injuries, Ezra scanned the entire room for something- _anything- _to help him escape. As usual, there was nothing; except the rebreather.

Some how, the Inquisitor and Chip had failed to search him for anything, and so the small bit of metal stuck in his boot had gone unnoticed. He'd never had much use for it until now. Of course, he _still_ didn't know what he was going to do with the darn thing.

_BOOM._

In desperation, Ezra felt around the edges of his food-flap, to be rewarded with the touch of screws. The cells aboard the Star Destroyer didn't normally come with a food flap installed. The bucket-heads had had to manually bolt in on after Ezra's escape attempt. Using the rebreather as a make-do screw-driver, Ezra jammed it against the metal bolts, and using all of his feeble strength, twisted the upper right bolt to the left.

_"Can you not get it open?" Sabine looked over at the struggling tween with amusement in her eyes.  
_

_Ezra struggled with the tube of paint, obviously losing the battle. "It just...won't...come...off!" He abandoned his attempts to open the tube and just gave it a look of disgust._

_Sabine laughed as he re-doubled his efforts. "Well of course it's not, silly, you're doing it wrong!" She strode over to the navy-haired kid, and twisted the cap off of the tube with no problem._

_"How can you tell?!" Ezra was looking at the open tube of blue paint with amazement in his eyes, if a little tainted by embarrassment.  
_

_"How can I- Did you never learn when you were on the streets?!"  
_

_"No! It was either you were lucky and opened whatever on the first try or you'd go again tomorrow! You're forgetting, time is money. Especially down there."_

_"Well, there's a little saying that's always helpful to remember: Lefty loosey, righty tighty." Now it was Ezra's turn to laugh.  
_

_"What?!"  
_

_"Lefty loosey, righty tighty! When you turn it to the left, like I did, it gets loose! When you turn it to the right, like you did, it gets tighter!" Sabine threw the tube of paint at the kid, who caught it deftly, and began to screw and unscrew the cap off of it._

_"I get the practicality of the message, but still...lefty loosey righty tighty? It sounds like a kid's rhyme!"_

_"That's 'cause it's used by kids!" The two started laughing their hearts out, only interrupted by Zeb peeking his head into Sabine's room._

_"Can you two can it? I'm tryin' to get some shut eye!"_

_Ezra's only response was to squirt the now open tube of blue paint all over the Lasat's face._

Ezra was rewarded for his efforts and pain when the bolt plonked out of it's socket and into his hand, where he caught it before it could clatter onto the floor. Not that the guards would hear it over the sirens anyway.

_BOOM._

Time was running out. Ezra hurriedly began to unwind the other three bolts, jostled slightly by the booms of the _Ghost_ flying overhead. When all four were off, Ezra hesitated. The now-exposed field let in his tray of food without any problems... did it only stop organic matter?

Hurriedly pressing his hand to the screen of blue energy, he found that it did indeed stop his hand. So, as an experiment, he chucked one of the four bolts at it. A surge of excitement reinvigorated his sore limbs as it sailed through, pinging through the hallway.

"What was that?" One of his guards had heard the small metal screw bouncing long the halls, but Ezra doubted they could see the small bolt that blended into the floor through their darkened helmets, especially with the flashing red lights that made depth perception an impossibility. Taking his chances, Ezra leaned to his right, and through a second bolt as far left as he could, praying that they wouldn't see it fly by the ground.

"There it is again!" He threw another one.

_BOOM._

"You don't think it's the rebels, do you?"

Ezra threw his last bolt down the corridor. "I'm gonna go check it out." Stupid bucket-heads. They were always so easy to predict and manipulate. A single pair of footsteps walked carefully away from Ezra's door, leaving one of his two guards at the entrance. But there was still the question of how Ezra was going to get out of the cell. He had thrown his last bolt, dared not part himself from the rebreather, and the second trooper was bound to come back soon after having found nothing...

_"Nah nah, kid, you need to really mean it."_

_"Oh, help help, I've fallen down and I can't get up!" Ezra shouted in a high, girlish voice before stopping the accent in annoyance. "Remind me again why I'm doing this?"_

_Zeb chuckled and held up two fingers. "Two reasons. One, 'cause y'never know when it's gonna come in handy."_

_Ezra raised an eyebrow. "What, pretending to be an old arthritic woman?"_

_"No no no, that was just a warm-up! If you can successfully act like an old arthritic woman, you can act like anything!"_

_"Again. Why would I want to?"_

_"Well, you seemed to like doin' it when that Agent nabbed you. Didn't you say the only reason you got out of that holding cell was because you pretended to fall deathly ill?"_

_"Well, yeah, but point being, I already did it. So I don't need to learn how to do it again!"_

_"Nah. What you did back then was just plain old acting. What I'm teaching you to do is become someone else."_

_"Fine then. Why would I want to be someone else?"_

_" 'cause not everyone's gonna care about your health like those two bozo's did, kid." A small moment of silence broke the conversation while the implications of what the Lasat had said sank in. Then Ezra snorted once in an amused fashion._  
_em"What's this, is the big bad Lasat finally acknowledging that he cares?"_

_"Nope. I just don't want to haf'ta lug your dead body outta some heavily guarded Imperial cemetery for Kanan."_

_"Sure, sure... so what's the second?"_

_"Huh?"_

_"You said there were two reasons. What's the second?" Zeb lets out a hearty chuckle before answering the young boy's question._

_"Because it makes you look like a fool!"_

Ezra took a deep breath and tried to remember what Kanan's voice had sounded like. It alarmed him slightly when he couldn't recall it immediately. Then he began, using everything Zeb had taught him:

"Ezra!" His deep, booming voice echoed out into the hallway, and a rustle of movement told Ezra the single remaining guard had heard him. He was probably looking around in the corridors for any hint of the Jedi, but Ezra continued, switching back to his normal, raspy voice. His throat burned and throbbed, but Ezra pushed on.

"Kanan! You came!" he could tell the bucket-head was now looking at the door that led into Ezra's cell. Praying that he was playing a good enough performance to make the trooper act before calling the second guard, Ezra moved into the position to the immediate right of the door, just like when he had escaped previously.

_BOOM._

"Of course I did, now shush! Let's get out of here!"

Ezra had said the magic words. The storm-trooper opened the door to his cell and raised his blaster to meet what he was expecting to be a fully grown Jedi- and was instead tackled by a fifteen year old.

Even though it caused fire to lick his sides from stretching old wounds, Ezra pinned down the bucket-head, making him slip on the stairs and whack his head on the edge of the bottom one. Knowing that the commotion would've attracted his companion, Ezra quickly grabbed the unconscious trooper's blaster, peeked out into the open corridor, and when he saw the head of his second guard, fired the blaster at him. The energy bolt hit him straight in the chest, and he flew back with a clatter of armor.

_BOOM._

Ezra doubted anyone would hear, as the constant firing of the _Ghost_'s main canon and the blaring of the overhead alarms made it difficult to hear anything at all. Still, there was a certain tightness in Ezra's chest that he doubted would go away until the excitement died down a little.

Unsure of what to do next, Ezra sat down on the cold floor, gasping a little. Quick movements and tackles like that probably weren't the best cure for his many wounds. It hurt when his skin stretched to allow for his quick, uneven breaths, and the only way that Ezra knew of to calm himself down was by meditating. As he wasn't about to do that in the middle of the corridor, he figured just sitting down would have to suffice for now.

_BOOM._

It had been real smart of him to escape his cell without the capacity to move a meter away from it. No matter what his restlessness told him, the rest of Ezra's body firmly shouted out all arguments with pain. He was sitting right here until it ebbed away.

Although that probably wasn't the best of options in his current situation, Ezra allowed his body the short rest, while using his adrenaline-heightened senses to scan for more troopers. Looking at the unconscious one right next to him, Ezra had one of his more brilliant ideas.

Stripping the soldier of his helmet, Ezra flipped the helmet upside down and took off the panel for the communications array inside of it. There were a bunch of miniature flips and flashing lights, as well as a tiny keypad.

_"How do you guys communicate with each other?"_

_"Um, through the comm-links?' Hera answered in an obvious tone._

_"Well, I know that, but, how do you... how do you talk without getting intercepted? I thought that the only official comm-link channels belonged to the Empire." Hera laughed slightly, turning to face the kid from her pilot's seat. They were in hyper-space, her skills weren't really necessary at that moment._

_"Ever heard of a comm frequency?" Ezra shook his head and continued to look at the Twi'lek._

_"It's kind of like a password that only allows the people who know that password to use the comm. If you don't know the frequency, you can't use that comm-channel. The Empire has it's own frequencies used by the different sections within it."_

_"Different sections?"_

_"Yeah. There's the Outer Rim frequency, Inner Rim, blah blah, the ISB frequency, the pilot frequency... if you can name any subdivision in the Empire, you can bet your life that they'll have their own little frequency. Of course, they all know each-others, and it's programmed into their comms, so there isn't a bunch of confusion or delay in communicating orders and such. Make sense?"_

_"Yeah, I guess." Hera smiled._

_"Do you get to choose your code?"_

_"So many questions!"_

_"Well, do you?"_

_"If you're a skilled enough hacker."_

_"Oh. So what's yours?"_

_Hera shot a toothy grin at Ezra. "I thank you for placing your trust in me that I can hack as well as you can." Ezra shrugged, but he to was wearing a smile._

_"Well, in case you ever need to know it, it's 6-1-13-9-11-25." Ezra frowned._

_"Why'd you make it so complicated to remember?" Hera resumed looking at the gentle flow of hyper-space around them._

_"Well, if it's complicated, it mean's no one's going to guess it and listen in to our conversations. But mainly, it's not that hard to remember. If you assign the letters of the Basic alphabet with the numbers in the code, it spells out a word kind of hard to forget." There was a little moment of silence while Ezra tried to remember all the different numbers and assigned their appropriate letters._

_ "...Family?" Hera nodded._

_"This ship houses a family, Ezra. It may be weird and smelly-"_

_"My two favorite words for Zeb."_

_"Hush now. It may be weird and smelly, but we're all still a family. And that bonds us together, much like the same frequency code. And now that you're part of the crew, you're part of the family as well, Ezra. Don't forget that." When Ezra responded, it was quietly and serious._

_"Don't worry. I don't think that'd be possible."_

With shaking fingers, Ezra padded in the six numbers that rang out home to him.

"Six...one...thirteen...nine...twelve...twenty-five... please come in."

_BOOM._

After immediately realizing the helmet was far to big for him to wear, Ezra settled for simply ripping out the communications device and holding it in his hand. He knew that it continued to work as it was, as he'd done this very thing before on a different mission.

"Spe-" Ezra broke down in coughs. Apparently the deep rumbling show he'd pulled as Kanan hadn't done any wonders for his still mutilated throat. Clearing his throat one more time, Ezra stood up, wincing, as he began again.

"Spectre six to Spectre one, come in." When there was no immediate response, Ezra realized he was barely whispering. Knowing he'd regret it later, Ezra pushed his voice up to normal levels and repeated: "Spectre six to Spectre one, come in. Please."

There was a loud static noise that issued from the comm, before Kanan's voice crackled through it.

"_Ezra!_" His relief was palpable, while Ezra nearly sank to his knees once again after hearing his mentor and friend's voice. That and he was seeing white spots from moving around too much.

"_Ezra, are you okay? Where are you?_" He could hear the sound of a blaster bolt being deflected from his master's lightsaber, and knew that there was no time for mushy-gushy sentiments. That could come later, when they had escaped this Force-forsaken ship.

"I didn't get far, Kanan. I'm still right outside my cell. I..." As his vision blurred and a bout of dizziness swept over Ezra, he nearly toppled over once again. "I don't know if I'll be able to head over to you."

"_Why not?!_" His voice was not incredulous, it was concerned. It made Ezra feel a rush of gratitude towards the Jedi for understanding his situation.

"Well, number one reason is probably because just talking and walking at the same time makes me dizzy." It was true, he had almost careened into the door of another cell.

There was a pause on the other side of the communicator in which Ezra could hear more blaster fire. Kanan seemed to yell out at someone before turning his attention back to Ezra. "_Don't worry about it. We're on our-_"

"Stop right there, prisoner!"

Ezra's hopes sank like a rock in a well. Standing just ahead of him, after having rounded a corner, stood three storm-troopers, all of whom were pointing their blasters straight at him. He doubted that the Inquisitor had told his men not to shoot on sight, and his suspicions were confirmed when the squeeze of three blasters being aimed reverberated through the hall way. There was no way he was surviving this.

"Second reason being I'm gonna die."

Ezra closed his eyes. There was no use staring death on head in the face, it just made for more fear and pain. This way, he didn't even have to know when it would happen. His pain would just melt away, and he would be carried to a land of peace. Who knew, maybe he'd find his parents there...

Three blasters fired three bullets. Three blasters found their three targets.

"See, I told you not to worry about it."

Ezra tiredly opened his eyes. Standing at the end of the hall, behind the now dispatched troopers, stood Kanan, Zeb, and Sabine, who all wore similar expressions of relief on their faces. Ezra was pretty sure his face mirrored theirs.

"You guys..."

"What, did you think we'd just leave you here? Gee, you've only known us a year and a half." The three began running towards Ezra from the end of the hall, and he could hear the shouts of storm-troopers from behind where they had come from. There was no time to dilly-dawdle.

But before he could take a step in their direction, a cold and cruel voice sounded out behind him:

"Oh dear, we can't have this, now, can we?"

Ezra was thrown against the metal walls of the Star Destroyer. He faintly heard dim voices shouting his name before he slid down to the floor, and knew no more.

* * *

**Curse you cliff-hanger!**

**Don't worry too much though. If all goes to plan, the next chapter will be out in a few minutes. Having written most of this story before even getting an account can come in handy, I guess.**


	16. The Second Botched Escape

**Oh dear dear. Again, quite a long chapter, but it's exciting! And slightly tear-jerking...**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Rebels, I doubt I'd still go to school.**

* * *

"Okay people, we need a game plan. Sensors tell us that there is definitely a ship out there, and it's a big one."

Murmurs echoed around the table as this new piece of information was acknowledged. Rescue from the Imperials was never an easy task, but Ezra was sure to be locked up in the highest security vault the Inquisitor could get. But anytime Kanan began to think of doubts, he would remember the raw scream that the Empire had delivered to him through the small black radio. Of Ezra's pain from torture that had led the group to this sector of space in the first-place. After that, he would spring back into the plan-making without further hesitation.

No one deserved to scream like that. To feel that. Especially not Ezra.

"Do we know any sort of blueprints about their layout?" Zeb inquired.

"They're big. Really big. Other than that, they should be the same layout as normal bucket-ships, just... bigger." Sabine supplied, summing up just about everything they knew about the Inquisitor's ship.

Even though the pair had been reluctant about hoping for Ezra once again, Zeb and Sabine had quickly become...not excited, but filled with a nervous anticipation. Much like Hera and Kanan. They were contributing as much as they could. Then again, they all were. This had to go right.

"Do you think that he'll be able to meet us half-way, like last time?" Kanan smiled slightly as a vivid memory of Ezra jumping down from an air-duct to be met with Zeb's fist replayed in his head. It quickly faded as he also remembered the intense agony that he had just felt his Padawan experience.

"I don't think so. Whatever they were doing to him, it wasn't pretty." Faces hardened around the table. No one liked to think about what was being done to their smallest crew member, but they were most definitely going to stop it. No exceptions.

"So where do you think the cells are gonna be?"

Kanan focused on the picture of the Star Destroyer on the table. The brig wouldn't be anywhere near the laughing bays, which would be a problem. They shouldn't be at the very tip of the ship, or at the very back, where a successful welding torch could cut a hole in the wall and free the prisoners. If anywhere, they should be somewhere in the middle layer, inaccessible from space, but easily to get to as to maintain the prisoners...

"There." He put a finger on a spot below the bridge, in the middle of the height of the entire ship. The others nodded their heads in assent, it seemed the only logical place to put the brigs. But that was the easy part.

"Now, the only reason that we succeeded last time was because we boarded them almost the exact moment that Ezra escaped. As the matter of his mobility is questionable, I doubt that he'll be able to do so again. We'll need to go all the way this time." Hera was taking charge, and Kanan had a feeling that it was her mother-hen instincts that told her to do so. They were going in to rescue Ezra, but they also needed to get out without losing anyone else.

"And this time, there are going to be a lot more than a couple bucket-heads. Even Zeb won't be able to bash all of their heads in." Zeb gave a half smile at Kanan's assessment. "We're gonna have to go in with moderate stealth, to get in as deep as we can and get out without losing anyone. Any ideas?"

Sabine answered his challenge. "That's not gonna be easy. As soon as the _Ghost_ comes within range of their scanners, they're either gonna lock themselves up tight or run out of there. Maybe come in on the _Phantom_ instead? They don't know her signature nearly as well."

"No, the Inquisitor personally put a tracker on the _Phantom_. I think he'll be looking for that as well."

"All right, then how about a different ship?" Hera's question hung in the air, and they all turned to look at her.

"You all right, Hera?" Zeb asked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. " 'Cause I swear I just heard you suggest we use a ship other that the precious _Ghost_!" Hera flashed him a quick smile.

"If we want to go in stealthy, that's about the only option we got, though."

"I agree with Sabine. Maybe we can sneak into one of their transports?" Kanan and the others had been monitoring the Star Destroyer's movements. It had stopped at an unknown planet, and ship after ship of small transport vessels had gone back and forth between the surface and the ship. There seemed to be no sign of them stopping, and it was as good as an outlet that Kanan could think of.

Zeb nodded his head in agreement. "We can circle around the Destroyer, staying out of it's sensor range, go down to the planet, hijack a delivery vessel, get on, take Ezra, get off. Simple. An' it lets me bash in a few heads as well." The Lasat punched his fists together, and Kanan sympathized. He may be a Jedi, but he still wanted to harm the bucket-heads that'd put Ezra's horrific scream on the news.

"Seems as good a plan as any. Still, what're we gonna do once we get in?" Hera was still in mother-mode.

"I've been thinking about that. Do you guys remember all those blast doors in the halls around the junctions?" Everyone nodded, focusing on Sabine. "Well, if we could somehow hack into those, we could block off every entrance and exit except the ones we needed to reach Ezra. That way, the only bucket heads we have to deal with are the ones we trap inside."

Hera nodded, and Kanan could see that she was already calculating how hard it would be to do such a thing. With her skills and Chopper combined, though, it seemed like an easy task.

"How're we gonna access the door mainframe, though?" Zeb spoke up.

"Easy. When we dropped Tseebo off, he gave the Rebellion all those codes and frequencies, remember? All we have to do is plug them into the computer." Heads were nodding all around the table as the plan came together.

Sabine walked over to a computer monitor and quickly pulled up a schematic of the type of ship they were looking at. "Guess we didin't need to guess where the brig was anyways." And then minutes passed while the crew found out the best path to take to the brig, and what doors to seal off at what times.

"You realize, there are going to be loads of bucket-heads in the launching bays, right? We're gonna have to do some heavy firing." Zeb and Kanan growled as one. "All the better."

Hera leaned back, a calculating look on her face. "Of course, once the Imperials know that you're on the ship, there's going to have to be a distraction on the top while you guys find him. And once me and Chop are gonna be doing that, you guys won't have a hacker to keep the Imps from re-hacking their doors into their control. I can put up a code to block them for a little bit without management, but without constant supervision they'll take the doors out of our control."

"Could Chopper supervise the hacking process?"

"He could, but then we'd have one less distraction ship flying around. Chop's a good droid, but he can't pilot, shoot, and hack at the same time."

"All right, then the only distraction we have flying above us is the _Ghost._ Forget the _Phantom_. Will you be able to keep the doors until we get out of there?" Hera paused, thinking before she answered Kanan's question.

"I should be able to hold out against them for a while, but they have official hackers who's job is to stop this kind of thing from happening. With Chop countering them, and with a decent head-start, we should be able to hold the doors for five minutes. Maybe more." Kanan nodded.

"As soon as they regain control of the blast doors, have Chopper take the _Phantom_ out of docking and join you. That should take some more bucket-heads out of our way, and give either one of you a chance at docking to pick us up. That, or we could just nick one of the Imp's own ships and fly away."

"If there's a ship in their bays big enough for all of you, take it, 'cause I don't think the Imps are gonna let us calmly fly into their hanger-bays and pick you all up. If there isn't one take the transport you used to get in." Kanan nodded, and Zeb and Sabine did as well. But there was still one thing weighing on the Jedi's mind.

"What about the Inquisitor?" Silence followed Sabine's question. It seemed that she, too, had been worried about the Pau'an appearing during all of this.

"Well," Kanan started, "I doubt the blast doors are gonna do much more than slow him down. What we'll need to do is move fast enough that he can't get to us, or quietly enough that we get a big head-start on him."

"We'll probably need to do both. He's got a purpose for the kid, Kanan. I don't think he'll let us take him back without a fight." Kanan nodded at Zeb's assessment. He didn't like the fact that he knew Zeb was right, but it was true. The Inquisitor had been targeting Ezra ever since that one day with the Fyrnochs, when he'd unleashed the Dark side of the Force to save Kanan. Again.

"All right. In that case, you'll probably want their comms taken out as well. The faster these bozo's realize what we're doing, the faster they'll alert the Inquisitor. Take out their comm channels, then infiltrate? Because as soon as we get out of that transport, their first move is gonna be to alert their higher-ups."

"Don't worry. We know their comm frequencies, we can jam their main ones, try and stop them from knowing we're here before it's too late." A collective sigh came from all the Spectres. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Let's get started, then."

* * *

_"Hey, Kanan? Can I ask you a question?_

_"You already did, but sure. What's up kid?" Ezra shifted, obviously uncomfortable._

_"Hera told me it was your vote that made you guys come and get me back from Kallus."_

_"That's right."_

_"Um... why did you want to come back?"_

_"Easy. I could feel it was the right thing to do."_

_"Oh. You mean with the Force-thingy?"_

_"Yes, the Force-thingy."_

_"Was... was that all?" Kanan looks at the young teen, a studying look on his face. He thinks he knows what this is about._

_"No, Ezra. That wasn't all." The boy looks up at him, a look of need written all over him. He wanted to hear what Kanan was about to tell him._

_"I... I'll admit it, your first impression wasn't too hot, kid." A sheepish grin falls into place, and Ezra scratches the back of his head._

_"But when I thought about what Imperials do to their prisoners, I just... I didn't like to put you in that position. It's not pretty." Kanan chewed his inside cheek thoughtfully, gauging Ezra's reaction. There's a small smile on his face, and his eyes are focused on something else._

_"You know, kid, I think you're gonna like it here." Ezra looks up at Kanan, surprised. "It's not gonna be much better quality living than on Lothal, but..." he shrugs._

_"You won't be alone. Just remember that, Ezra. You're not alone anymore."_

* * *

The actual hijacking of the transport vessel was smooth enough. Zeb got to knock out a couple of troopers, while Kanan looked on jealously before stamping down on that emotion. As far as they could tell, no one had been alerted to what they were doing.

Hera had yet to jam the trooper's comm channel, because they wanted everything to be normal for the bucket-heads until the last possible moment. Acting too early was a good way to point themselves out. So they were left flying up to the Star Destroyer in silence, all three Spectres staring upwards at their goal.

Kanan was guessing that there were so many transports flying around that the Imps had just given up on identifying and verifying each one, since they hadn't gotten a single call asking for identification codes. Still, it was slightly nerve wrecking to fly to their target at such a slow pace.

It looked like the second step of the plan was going to be a bit harder, though. There were at least twenty bucket-heads stationed in the hanger-bay they had accessed, which were moving straight at them. It was lucky that there had been no verification codes asked, because the troopers that were approaching them looked completely at ease. Their blasters were slung on their backs, the better to unload the supposed cargo in the transport vessel.

Since the Spectres had hijacked the ship before the stormtroopers loaded any of the supplies, there was, of course, no cargo on board.

"Ready?" Kanan asked Zeb and Sabine.

"Ready." There was a determination in both of their voices that made Kanan smile.

"Spectre 1 to _Ghost_, begin jamming transmissions."

"_Copy that, Spectre 1. You are good to go._"

A small beep from his communicator told Kanan that Hera had jammed the comms for the Imps. It was now or never. The Jedi looked over towards the other two Spectres, and nodded silently. The operation began now.

"Open up in there!" A bucket-head's voice rang out, and Sabine pulled out a small metal sphere from her belt pouch. Kanan flipped the switch to open the back doors.

"What th-" Before the bucket-head could even properly see inside the transport, Sabine threw the small device into their midst. A second afterwards, it activated, and a surge of electricity downed half of the troopers in one go. It was much like the device that had been used to capture Ezra.

The rest of the troopers in the bay now knew who they were. Praying to the Force that Hera's jam had been successful, Kanan leaped into the fray, Zeb and Sabine following him.

The Spectres had four advantages on the troopers. First off, they had the advantage of surprise. Second off, they bucket-heads had their weapons on their backs. Third off, they had a Force-user on their side. And lastly, they were all pissed. It wasn't much of a surprise when all the troopers were defeated.

"Spectre 1 to _Ghost_, deliver the controls to Spectre 5 pronto." A flashing red light on Sabine's wrist screen gave testimony to the fact that the codes were downloaded. As Hera and Chopper would be busy keeping the Imps from regaining control of the doors, it would fall to Sabine to open and close the appropriate doors at the right time, and to follow their progress through the ship's corridors.

"Let's go." The three Spectres headed out of the hanger-bay, looking left and right as they did. So far, the coast was clear. "Make a right and keep going till the next junction." Sabine called out from behind them. As they headed down the halls, a thud resonated behind them as she closed the blast door to the left of them.

The next bit of excitement didn't happen until three junctions and five doors later, when a patrol of three guards ran into them. They were silenced pretty quickly, but almost as soon as they had finished with them, Kanan's comm came on.

"Ghost _to Spectre 1. Sorry love, but they've started trying to regain the blast doors._"

"How long will you be able to hold out against them?"

"_Chopper's telling me at the most six minutes. I'm going in._"

"Best of luck to you, _Ghost_."

"_You as well Spectre 1_. Ghost _out_."

"We're losing time. Let's go!" The three Spectres began running down the halls, pausing only to take directions from Sabine and to dispatch of the occasional bucket-head. Their patrols were becoming more active, and Kanan knew that they were looking for them.

_Boom._

Hera had started her diversion. It wouldn't be long now before Chopper lost control of the blast doors. They had to hurry.  
Four more cannon hit sounded before the sirens came on. They were quickly accompanied by flashing red lights, which made Kanan's eyes water. Zeb folded down his ears is annoyance.

"Sabine, how far do we still have to go?" Kanan shouted out over the sirens.

"Just a few more junctions! We're coming up on a big room though, and I don't thin-"

They rounded into the room she had been talking about, and Sabine immediately stopped talking. Inside was a dozen or so storm-troopers, and they all had their blasters trained on them.

"MOVE!" Zeb and Sabine dived to the side and out of the line of fire as blaster-bolts flew through the air they had just occupied. Kanan pulled out his lightsaber and deflected the bolts, sending them back towards their owners. He may have been reserved about using it before, but this was the one mission where he would hold nothing back.

A whisper sounded from his comm.

Thinking it to be Hera with more information about the blast doors, Kanan left it on his belt, leaving his ears alone to focus on whatever came out of it.

"_Spectre six to Spectre one, come in. Please._"

With a jolt, Kanan recognized his Padawan's voice crackling in through the comm. He immediately picked it off of his belt and thumbed it on, still deflecting bolts back into the fray. On either side of him, Sabine and Zeb shot their own bolts into the room, deftly taking out troopers.

"Ezra! Ezra are you okay? Where are you?"

"_I didn't get far, Kanan. I'm still right outside my cell. I... I don't know if I'll be able to head over to you._"

"Why not?!" Fearing the worst made Kanan's voice ripe with concern. It didn't help that Ezra sounded as though he was barely conscious.

"_Well, number one reason is probably because just walking and talking at the same time makes me dizzy._" Kanan frowned. They had counted on Ezra being non-mobile, but he sounded worse that they expected.

"Sabine! We could use a miracle!"

"Gotcha, boss!" Momentarily pulling herself out of the action, Sabine reached into her back pocket and pulled out another one of her specially made grenades. A few seconds and one blue explosion later, the coast was clear. Kanan started running down the halls again, but voiced into the comm:

"Don't worry about it. We're on our-"

"Stop right there, prisoner!" The sound of troopers training their blasters onto their target rang out in front of them. They doubled their speed and pulled out their own blasters.

In a voice so small Kanan could barely hear it, Ezra spoke out again: "_Second reason being I'm gonna die._"

They rounded the corner to see the backs of three bucket-heads aiming in front of them, and all three Spectres took their shots. Their targets all clattered onto the floor, taken out without difficulty. In front of them, down the hall, stood Ezra Bridger. He was slightly thinner that Kanan remembered, and his pilot-suit was ripped up pretty bad. His eyes were closed.

"See, I told you not to worry about it."

Ezra opened is eyes tiredly, and his face twisted to show relief. Kanan was pretty sure that their own faces mirrored his. It had been far too long since he'd seen those electric eyes.

"You guys..." His voice was scratchy and soft, but Kanan was still glad to hear it. Gladder than he'd been in days.

"What, did you think we'd just leave you here? Gee, you've only known us a year and a half." Zeb chuckled. They began to run over towards Ezra, finally able to leave this ship-

"Oh dear, we can't have this, now, can we?"

The Inquisitor stepped out behind Ezra, a cold fire burning in his eyes. Without a second's hesitation, the Pau'an raised his hand. Ezra flew into the wall of the Star Destroyer where he stayed, limp.

"EZRA!" Three voices shouted out, before Kanan once again drew his lightsaber.

"Tut tut, I was expecting a tad more manners than this, Jedi." Whether out of arrogance or something else, the Inquisitor had yet to draw his own lightsaber. That just made him an easier opponent.

"Get away from him!" The Pau'an raised both of his hands in mock surrender.

"Oh, poor little me! Whatever shall I do against the big, bad Jedi? Oh, I know!" To late to stop him, Kanan watched as the Inquisitor flicked two fingers. In response to the Force-pull, Ezra's unconscious body was lifted into the air once again, floating eerily.

"Let go of him!" Behind him, Kanan could hear two blasters being raised at the monster before them. But Zeb and Sabine dared not to fire, for the Inquisitor was waving Ezra in front of them like a grotesque puppet-master making his puppets dance. If they fired a single shot at him, no doubt Ezra would take them.

"I do rather think that you should leave now, Jedi." All pretense of timidness was gone now. The Inquisitor had finally drawn his lightsaber, and he was twirling it ever so close to the body of his Padawan.

Kanan's heart ripped. The Inquisitor was not going to fight him, instead he was making sure that none of the Spectres could reach Ezra. He wasn't going to let them take their crew member back.

"Go on, Jarrus. Leave. Before your Padawan ends up losing a limb." Kanan didn't move, torn. Could he make it over there in time? Would he lose Zeb and Sabine if he charged?

Would they ever have another chance at rescue?

"Kanan... we can't... we have to go." Sabine's choked voice called out to him. The Inquisitor smiled, knowing he had won the battle. Kanan could not save Ezra. Not without losing Zeb and Sabine. He didn't have the power to.

Footsteps rang out from behind the Inquisitor. Hera had lost the blast doors. More stormtroopers were coming. They had to leave. Leave and hope that they would be able to come back for Ezra another day. With one last, heart-breaking look at his Padawan, hanging in the air, Kanan turned away.

He ran. He ran away. From Ezra. From the Inquisitor. From his own weakness.

"This isn't over!"

Kanan had not been able to save Ezra. He hadn't been strong enough. There was no way around it, if Kanan were stronger, he'd be able to save his apprentice. His crew member. His son.

But he was weak. Kanan was weak. He couldn't be fast enough. He couldn't be strong enough. He wasn't.

There were no more guards to get in their way. No more challenges. The Inquisitor was laughing at his weakness. He hadn't saved Ezra...

Zeb took the pilot's seat in the transport, and they whizzed away. Further from Ezra. They didn't save him. He was still down there, to suffer at the Inquisitor's hands. He was alone. They were leaving him alone. They docked in the _Ghost_'s cargo hold. Hera's voice crackled through. "_What happened? Did you-_"

"Hera... we failed."


	17. Plans of Darkness

**And I'm back again! Seriously, I didn't think it was possible for the views to climb that high. Thank you all so much!**

**Disclaimer: Disney is the one and only, like, _the_ _only_, owner of Star Wars: Rebels.**

* * *

"Sir, it's the rebels! They're here!"

The Inquisitor's eyes snapped open from his meditation. He had had a feeling that the news report would not be enough to stop Kanan Jarrus and his crew. No matter. The boy would be kept. He was not going to be lost.

"Where are they?"

"Somewhere in the middle decks, sir. They sneaked in on one of the oncoming transports. They're using the blast doors to keep our soldiers away from them." The Inquisitor snorted softly. They were crafty.

The transports from Myrkr contained hundred of Ysalimir, to be scattered on the inside edges of the _Imminent Pursuit_, effectively cutting off the ship from the Force outside of it. This was designed to keep the rouge Jedi from sensing his Padawan while outside of the ship, but to allow the Inquisitor full access while inside. The boy would also be able to use the Force, but not to contact his master.

The last time that had happened, the Inquisitor had very nearly killed the child.

Granted, the wearing off of the Force Inhibitor had been a mistake. They hadn't been administered thoroughly enough. But the child had undermined one of the Inquisitor's best strategies of keeping the rouge Jedi away from him by using a single moment of connection to prove that he was alive. That meant that the Inquisitor's brilliant idea of sending out the fake death-message had been for nothing.

Not only had it made the message useless, it had invited the Jedi to try and attempt a rescue. As he was doing now. The Inquisitor was not proud that he had lost control, but he had, and the result ad been to instill more fear into the boy.  
Now, he would have to make sure that it wasn't for naught.

The Inquisitor picked himself off of his meditation pad, unfolding his long, pale limbs. It was time to act. The Pau'an moved quickly out of his quarters, and as he did so the sirens and red lights flashed on. He picked up his pace, walking so fast that the soldier behind him had trouble keeping up.

"Alert the Ysalimir placers to remain at their posts and continue working. They will not be needed to deal with the infiltrators."

"Yes, sir!" And with a salute, the trooper ran off in the opposite direction. Even though the intrusion was of the gravest nature, simply adding more numbers to the hunting party would do no good. The distribution of the Ysalimir was crucial, as it would buy the Inquisitor more time to break the boy.

Although now that there was hope in Bridger's mind, The Inquisitor knew that it would take longer to break the boy. Stupid rebels, always getting in the way of plans far above their heads.

He was not far from the brig when his connection to Bridger told him that he was feeling intense relief. Since he had planted the subtle drone, the Inquisitor had remained with the thoughts of the young Padawan, trying daily to sway the boy out of his faith in his crew. He had had little to no success, but the ebb of energy had remained inside the boy's mind, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce.

The path was blocked. The blast doors leading to the brig were shut, no doubt as a result of the rouge Jedi's interference. No matter. The Inquisitor pulled out his lightsaber and activated it, switching to intimidation mode. He held the blade at his side, cutting a vertical line in the blast door just taller than he was. He repeated the procedure on the other side, then cut the resulting slab of metal out of the frame he had created. Nothing would stop him from securing his fate as ruler of the galaxy.

There was another blast door. The relief in the child grew stronger. Knowing he had little to no time, the Inquisitor stored his lightsaber on his back and simply forced the door open.

"What, did you think we'd just leave you here? Gee, you've only known us for a year and a half."

The Inquisitor rounded the hall way in time to see the Jedi, Lasat, and Mandalorian running towards the young child, who had somehow escaped his cell.

"Oh dear, we can't have that this, now, can we?"

With a single wave of his hand, the Inquisitor sent the young Bridger flying: he hit the left wall of the corridor and slumped, unconscious. He would deal with the boy later.

"EZRA!" All three beings in front of him cried out, but it was useless. The boy would not hear them. He was staying with the Inquisitor. The Jedi drew his lightsaber and activated it, but the Pau'an refrained from taking out his own.

"Tut tut, I was expecting a tad more manners than this, Jedi."

"Get away from him!" The Inquisitor noted with amusement the rising levels of emotions in the man before him. Jedi were not supposed to do that, they had to have their emotions under control. Then again, he had been but a Padawan himself when the Temple had fallen. Perhaps that was why he was always... lacking when fighting.

"Oh, poor little me! Whatever shall I do against the big, bad Jedi? Oh, I know!" With a simple beckon of two fingers, the sleeping form of the boy rose up, floating a few inches off of the ground. The Inquisitor wasn't choking him, though. To do that would be to spur the Jedi further into action. What the Inquisitor needed to do was scare him away, not prompt him into action.

"Let go of him!" Behind the Jedi, the Lasat and Mandalorian raised their blasters in his direction. In response, the Inquisitor moved the child back and forth across the halls, effectively giving the message that any attempt to fire their weapons would end in only harm to their youngest member.

"I do rather think that you should leave now, Jedi." The Inquisitor dropped his voice down menacingly low, while he reached up to his back and pulled forth his lightsaber. While the child was moving back and forth the halls like an odd puppet, he waved his lightsaber around, seemingly careless where it went. He made sure not to actually touch the boy, as that would wake him immediately, but he came close enough to make Jarrus flinch. Then, hurt took its place on the Jedi's face. It seemed he had realized what the Pau'an's goal of this situation truly was.

The Inquisitor had no intention of fighting. Not to be peaceful, far from it. Instead, he was making absolutely sure that they would not be able to sneak around him in any way to retrieve the child. If he engaged the Jedi in combat, that would leave the Lasat and Mandalorian access to the boy. He was no fool. They were not going to reach him.

"Go on, Jarrus. Leave. Before your Padawan ends up losing a limb." There was a carefully maintained dead look in his eyes that communicated the point the Inquisitor was not bluffing. To be a useful tool, the child didn't need a fully functional body, just an astute mind and connection to the Force.

The Jedi didn't move. He was staring at Bridger with a look of intense regret, and the Inquisitor knew that the man was as of yet undecided. But the Mando girl to his left choked out softly, so that the Pau'an had to strain to hear her: "Kanan...we can't...we have to go."

He smiled. The battle was won. There was no way that Jarrus would recklessly charge in for his apprentice, the risks of losing all his crew members was too great. He may not have completed his Jedi training before they were destroyed, but the main teachings of Master Billaba had sunk into him. A single man was not worth the lives of two others.

Footsteps gave testimony to another squad of storm-troopers heading from where the Inquisitor had come from.

Apparently they had regained use of the blast doors. With a single look back to his floating Padawan, Jarrus turned tail and ran.

"This isn't over!"

They left, running down the hall they had previously emerged from. A wicked smiled crossed over the Pau'an's face. The Jedi had been too weak. He could not rescue the boy. And he never would.

The Inquisitor set loose a bone chilling laugh that echoed through the corridors. Bridger was his, and he would remain that way. A 'thud' accompanied his release of the child, and the Inquisitor turned to face the seven troopers that rounded the corner.

"Put him back in his cell, and tell the Ysalimir placers to double their working speed. We'll need them in place as soon as possible."

"Sir, yes sir!"

The Inquisitor stalked back towards his quarters. Within a matter of hours, the Ysalimir would create a bubble of Force non-receptance around the _Imminent Pursuit_. Kanan Jarrus, after having left the vicinity of the ship, would not be able to locate Bridger again, as his ship would be 'invisible' to the Force. Another instance like this would not happen again.

Of course, now breaking the child would be that much harder. How could the boy possibly abandon his crew after he had just seen them attempt rescue? If anything, this recent event would turn him further from the Inquisitor... it would make the offer to escape loneliness just seem like empty words...

Then the only logical thing to do was to switch tactics. The Inquisitor would not attempt to turn the boy from his crew and join the Pau'an out of revenge... he would take away the child's source of strength, and have the only option to become stronger to be with him. The boy would have to view himself as weak, as to maximize the effectiveness of this strategy...

So the feeble members of the crew were his pillars of strength. Very well, then the Inquisitor would just have to eliminate those pillars. Of course, the _Ghost_ and everyone aboard her had probably already jumped into hyper-space... But the boy didn't know that. The Inquisitor had made him lose consciousness just before he had chased his friends away. _He_ didn't know that they were safe and sound...

Then in the morning the Inquisitor would take the next step. Instead of using his link in the boy's mind to whisper thoughts of doubt, he would use the bond- and his own extensive skill in the Dark side of the Force- to induce a hallucination in the boy. It would have to be a rather extensive one, and the boy could have no clue that it was fake.

That was a demanding task.

The Inquisitor reached into his utility-belt and pulled out his comm. "Agent Kallus."

"_Yes, sir?_"

"As soon as the Ysalimir placement is complete, inform me at once. I need you to change I-84-B's daily routine so that he does not immediately go in for his sessions, simply for today. I will be doing a special exercise with him, and need no further use for the bot than to inject Bridger with a Force-inhibitor on my say-so."

"_Of course, sir. May I ask whether this special exercise has anything to do with tomorrow's Empire Day celebration?_"

"No. All you need to know is what I have told you." The Inquisitor had almost forgotten that the next day was Empire Day. The day the Jedi were exterminated, and, if his sources were to be trusted, Bridger's birthday.

The Inquisitor smiled. What an extraordinary birthday he would have.

* * *

**I know that we've already seen this particular scene twice now, from differing points of views, but I felt like the Inquisitor had to have his own say as well. Besides, he's just so darn fun to write for!**

**Thank you all again for your support!**


	18. Erosion

**Alright now, this one's gonna be a little... darker than my usual ones. Still, it should be a good chapter... Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rebels. I think this chapter kinda proves why...**

* * *

Coming back to consciousness was hard. And painful. Extremely hard and painful.

First off, there was a throbbing bruise on the back of his head. Secondly, his entire body ached and yelled at him to attend to it. Thirdly, he had the most annoying headache ever.

Waking up was very hard when the entire world was screaming at you not to do so.

Ezra Bridger opened his eyes. He was not where he had closed them. In a rush of memories, Ezra remembered what had happened: Kanan had come to save him; he'd escaped from his cell; the troopers had him cornered; Kanan, Zeb and Sabine had saved him; and then... the Inquisitor had come.

Ezra looked at his surroundings so fast that he cricked his neck, causing a whimper of pain. As he rubbed his aching neck with his aching hand, he realized that it didn't take a genius to figure out where he was.

He was back in his cell.

"No.. no no no! NO! Kanan... Zeb... Sabine!" Ezra cried out, not caring if there was anyone outside his cell to notice. He had been so close... so..._close_...and they had been snatched from him. Rather, he had been snatched from them. They had been so close to escaping, to leaving the Destroyer, to going home... but now he was back in his cell.

Back in his cell, where he couldn't reach out to them. Where he couldn't call for help. Where they _couldn't_ help him. Where the Inquisitor took him away from them.

They had been so close...

Ezra curled up into a ball, dry sobs echoing in the small room. They hadn't even bothered to switch out his cell, only to remodel the food-flap. How did he know it was the same cell? There was blood. Everywhere. He hadn't really recognized it before, but there was blood in almost every corner of the room. He sure had lost a lot of it.

And now he was going to lose even more. Because he had failed. Because he had been too weak to defend himself. Too pathetic to stay awake while Kanan and the others fought the Inquisitor...

Worry tinged his muses. The three Spectres had been alone in the hallway, except for the Inquisitor... had they made it? Surely they made it... escaped off of this hell-hole... ready to try and rescue him again...

**_But what if they didn't?_**

_No, they made it. They had to have made it. I... I would've felt something if they didn't..._

_**Would you?**_

_Of course I would have... no, they're alive somewhere. I know it. They'll come and rescue me, for real next time... I'll be stronger next time..._

His cell door slid open, to reveal the two entities he had come to despise most in this galaxy: The Inquisitor, and Chip.

"Rise and shine young Bridger, don't you know today's a _very_ special day?"

Ezra glared at the Inquisitor, calling forth all the power he could muster to fix him with his cruelest death-stare. The Pau'an only smiled a toothy smile. It was strange though, it was almost as if Ezra was looking at the Inquisitor through a fine mist. He was slightly blurred around the edges.

Apparently Chip had done more than he thought, but when Ezra blinked the haze disappeared.

"Come now... we wouldn't want anything to ruin the special day, now would we?" He tapped his foot once on the ground, and Chip moved forward. It was unavoidable, Ezra flinched backwards as soon as the bot began to move forward. Today, however, Chip only seemed to have a single serum to inject into his blood-stream. He could immediately feel that it was a Force-inhibitor; another one.

"Come along, then, young Bridger." With that, the Inquisitor snapped his fingers and exited the cell. Ezra sat deathly still.

_What?! He's...he's... letting me out?"_

Two storm-troopers entered the cell. Of course he wasn't. Each man grabbed one of Ezra's arms, hooking their own underneath his armpits. Before, when he actually had the strength to, Ezra would've lashed out and fought. Now, it was all he could do not to throw up on his already stained garment.

As the two bucket-heads dragged Ezra through the halls after the Inquisitor, confusion and fear began to take root inside of him. What was going on? If they were moving him to a different cell, surely they would've done it while he was unconscious?

"You know, it really was quite fortunate, what happened during the night shift." The Inquisitor spoke out in front of him, voice echoing creepily through the otherwise abandoned corridor. As Ezra wasn't able to muster enough energy to respond in any way he deemed fit, the Pau'an continued uninterrupted.

"Because now, you're going to see just how inadequate you and your motley crew truly are." Dread settled in Ezra's stomach. The Inquisitor was in a good mood. While that in and of itself was never a good thing, that was doubly so when he mentioned the crew...

The Pau'an stopped in front of a large hanger-bay door. Ezra hadn't even realized it, but they'd taken him to the exact place that he had been trying to get to when he'd first escaped. It really took a lot less time when you could walk freely in the halls without getting lost every second.

But there was no humor to Ezra's thoughts. His humor had died when he'd woken up.

"Shall we go and take a look, then?" And with a particularly nasty smile, the Inquisitor opened up the door to the hanger-bay. As huge lights blinded Ezra, he could've sworn that Imperial hangar-bays were larger than this. Though that didn't really matter: because he could also swear that there were muffled shouts coming from the center of the room. Urging his eyes to work properly, Ezra began to wish that he couldn't see at all.

In the center of the bay were four moving shapes; they weren't going anywhere, instead struggling. Behind each of the shapes were stormtroopers, blasters at the ready. As Ezra's eyes focused properly in the bright light, horror joined his dread, along with dismay. The four struggling shapes were none other than Sabine, Zeb, Hera...and Kanan.

All four rebels were held with standard Imperial handcuffs, and gags were stuffed inside all of their mouths. The two troopers threw Ezra to his knees a little ways away from them, they were maybe six standard feet from one another.

_**Well, now you know what happened last night...**_

"As you can see, the attempt at your rescue was unsuccessful...in more than one way. These three," The Inquisitor gestured to Kanan, Sabine and Zeb, "were apprehended almost as soon as you were, while the Twi'lek was caught a few short moments afterwards."

Hera glared at the Inquisitor much the same as Ezra had just a few seconds ago.

"It seems, in light of recent events, that we'll need to get the comm-channel warmed up." His eyes glinted evilly towards Ezra. "They're about to hear four more _delightful_ stories about the deaths of four more rebels. The people will be ecstatic, don't you think?"

"NO!" Ezra didn't even feel his throat crack, the only thing that mattered were the four people in front of him. Who were about to be executed. Unable to express profane enough violence to the Pau'an, Ezra attempted to leap at him, but found two strong pairs of arms keeping him exactly where he was. The troopers weren't going to let him intervene.

"Now, who should go first? The Mandalorian? The Lasat? The Twi'lek? Or... the Jedi?"

"You leave them alone, Baldy! You can't just... you can't-"

"My dear boy, I'm afraid I can. It's as simple as a single- snap." The Inquisitor snapped his fingers.

And with the traditional buzz of a storm-trooper's blaster, Sabine lay dead on the floor.

"Sab...Sabine...Sabine!" But her life-less corpse did not stir. Ezra's eyes couldn't seem to close. His mouth was opening and closing soundlessly, coherent speech having abandoned him. Sabine was dead.

She was _dead_.

"Pity. Tell me, who should go next? What's the human saying, 'ladies first?'?" The Inquisitor stroked his chin, glancing towards Hera. Ezra shook his head violently.

"Don't touch her! Don't touch any of them! Don't touch them or I'll-"

"Or you'll what? You can't do anything against me. Not when I can kill your strongest team member with nothing more than my fingers." He snapped again. The blaster went off. Zeb was dead.

"ZEB! NO, ZEB!" He couldn't move. Ezra couldn't move. He couldn't attack the Inquisitor, couldn't save his friends, couldn't keep them from dying-

"So rude. Surely you must know it is _highly_ uncivilized to shout in public? Or were you never taught proper manners?" Another snap. Another buzz. Hera was dead on the floor.

"HERA, NO! NO! STOP IT! STOP IT YOU EVIL-"

"I thought there was no such thing as 'evil' in the Force. For an apprentice of a Jedi, that's a pretty strong word." Ezra couldn't say another word. He knew what was coming next.

"Or, maybe, the Jedi simply didn't teach you to control your feelings? With emotionlessness being a core aspect of a Jedi knight, one would think that would be the core aspect of their training as well..." Ezra didn't speak. He only looked on in horror, afraid to make the Inquisitor snap and kill Kanan as well. For the moment though, he only circled around Kanan, like a predator around its' wounded prey.

"Did he at least teach you about the Extermination of the Jedi? Well, even if he did not, the rest of the galaxy would have. It must have been so _delightful_, knowing that thousands died the day you were born... sixteen years ago today. Happy birthday. Such a momentous occasion simply demands a momentous gift... such as your own personal slice of history." The Inquisitor stopped directly behind Kanan.

"Always remember, boy, that on Empire Day, the last of the Jedi were wiped out."

Time seemed to stop. Kanan was staring Ezra dead in the eyes, a look of helplessness forever etched in his face. Gone was the Kanan that had understood Ezra's pain. Gone was the Kanan who knew the right thing to say. Gone was the Kanan that would always save the day.

And as the red lightsaber blossomed through his chest, the Kanan that Ezra had come to see as a father was gone as well.

* * *

**0.o**

**So, yeah... just want to make this ABSOLUTELY clear, because I've gotten some questions on this before. The crew of the _Ghost_ IS STILL ALIVE. It's just that Ezra now thinks they're dead, because the Inquisitor is one crafty Pau'an.**

**So, let's move on to an encouraging note next, shall we?**


	19. Odd Pep-Talks

**Alright! A chapter not about the deaths of everyone Ezra loves! It's a little mopey in the beginning, but I swear they're better in the end.**

**Disclaimer: Rebels is mine! Only on Opposite Day, though.**

* * *

There was silence aboard the _Ghost._

They had failed. They'd failed to restore their crew, their family. For all of their hard work and planning... they had failed.

Everyone felt the blame on their shoulders. Kanan hadn't been strong enough. Zeb and Sabine had been useless. Hera had taken them all away. It was useless to assign blame when they all felt it had been their responsibility that the mission had failed.

The only thing that the three action-oriented Spectres could think of was Ezra, dangling in the air helplessly. Because of them. Because they hadn't got there in time, and because they didn't have the ability to fight against the Inquisitor. The pilot thought of nothing more than that with every second they did nothing, her youngest, fragile Spectre was being tortured. Turned against them. Warped.

This was the second time they had abandoned him. The second time they had run away from Ezra while the Inquisitor got what he wanted. This time, though, it had been Hera's decision to leave him. Before, she had left thinking that they had all made it safe. Now she had actually decided to leave him in the clutches of the Empire.

For her, that was the worst decision she had made in her entire life.

The artist was sitting on her bunk, staring at her most recent painting, the one that depicted tham as a family. There was a dead look to her eyes. They had actively ran away from him, they'd knowingly hindered their progress from re-building their family.

She knew that they meant more than anything to the kid. Sabine knew that. He may not have told her directly, but she could see it in the way that he acted around them. They were Ezra's everything.

And they had left him. Alone. Stranded.

It would take them weeks, maybe months to have another chance like that. Another shot at reuniting their family. That had been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity from fate, and they had botched it. Now, not only would the security surrounding Ezra become triple secured, but she had a feeling that the bucket-heads wouldn't be as lax with protocol as they had been before. Another rescue chance was almost guaranteed to be impossible.

They had failed him.

The Lasat was in his bunk, alone in his cabin.

It was funny. All the times he had complained that having his room shared by the little twerp now seemed empty. He'd give almost anything just to hear Chopper screaming down the hallways in pursuit of the kid, even to have another bed crash down on top of him.

He stared up at the painting of the two of them that Sabine had drawn on their ceiling. They both looked like fools, all right. But at least they had been there to be fools with one another.

He had been useless. He had only stood there and watched as his little friend was dangled unconscious before him, and had done nothing about it. He had run away. It kind of reminded him of the time that Kallus had nabbed the kid, only he felt about a hundred times worse.

It had only been a few weeks since he had been captured. Only a few weeks, and yet the Imperials had still managed to make Ezra look like a walking corpse. He was strong, no matter what Zeb might say to the contrary. The kid was strong enough to hold his own. But when he had seen the three Spectres at the end of the hall... There had been relief beyond relief of Ezra's face, and it made the Lasat think about what exactly the Empire would have had to do to make the kid want to get away that badly.

Usually, Zeb was content in missions where his main role was to bash together bucket-heads. This time, that had been the only thing he'd done. And what had happened because of it? Ezra had turned into some sort of gruesome puppet, dancing in front of them, with his strings being pulled by the monster of an organism that was the Inquisitor. Zeb had done nothing. And Ezra had been lost because of it.

The Jedi couldn't feel him. His Padawan's signature in the Force was inaccessible to him. He wasn't dead- he would have felt that. Instead, there was only nothing.

Before, any attempts he made to try and connect with his student had been met with indistinct, muffled whispers, only vaguely telling him that Ezra was alive somewhere. Now, there was simply... nothing. Kanan couldn't find Ezra. He hadn't been able to sense him, ever since they had left the Star Destroyer.

This would have just been disturbing before. Now, his inability to feel his Padawan rang out with a sense of failure.

It was unnerving, not being able to reach out to his Padawan. It drove a barrier between the two that hadn't been there... ever. Kanan had no idea what could've caused it, as there was nothing he knew of that could block out the Force. He refused to believe that Ezra had died, though. That, if he let himself believe it, would drive him insane.

So he held out. Kanan wasn't the best Jedi, he had still been young when they had all but died out. But if there was anything he had learned, it was that when he abandoned the teachings of the Force, bad things happened around him. If he gave in and tortured himself with what-ifs, Ezra would never be re-claimed.

That didn't stop him from feeling guilty, but it did stop him from completely detaching himself from the world.

Until they had another chance of rescue, Kanan wouldn't let himself fall. For if he did, what was there to stop him from utter insanity?

* * *

"_All Spectres, meet in the cock-pit. Now._" Kanan's voice rang through the still halls, reaching all the down-trodden members of his crew. He had to stop them all from with-drawing completely into themselves.

It took fifteen minutes of waiting and another comm-order before everyone was inside the bridge, looking at Kanan with empty eyes. It bothered him that they all looked the same: hopeless.

"You guys, we need to talk." Zeb snorted at his comment.

"Really? I had no idea. You've only said it three times already." Kanan ignored him and continued on.

"What happened on the Destroyer... none of us are happy about it."

"You could say that again..."

"But we have to move on." Three pairs of "WHAT?"s echoed in the room. Kanan almost smiled, their reactions were so perfectly coordinated.

"Kanan, how can you say that? Ezra's probably getting beat up again, and you say we have to 'move on'?!"

"Sabine, calm down, I know I probably sound ridiculous. But hear me out." The Mandalorian snorted, but let Kanan continue. Hera stared up at him with wary eyes, but the Jedi ignored them and plowed on.

"If we sit in our cabins thinking to ourselves 'It's my fault,' or 'I should've done something better,' or 'I wasn't good enough,' what are we going to accomplish? Nothing. We won't help ourselves, or each other, or Ezra. We need to get it together. We need to do missions, gather credits and data, and plan for out next move."

"But that could be years from now!" Sabine cried out, face still hidden behind her helmet. She had taken to wearing it ever since Ezra had been taken, Kanan couldn't remember if she'd ever taken it off since. He stared right into her visor, and knew from the way that she shifted uncomfortably he was looking right into her eyes.

"Yes, it could be years. Or it could be days. The point is, if all we do is blame ourselves for what happened, we might not ever get past it. If the only thing we do in our cabins is mope and wish that another chance would fall into our laps, we'll never get one. We have to act if we want to save Ezra. In order to do that, we need supplies. For that, we need to run jobs. And for that... we have to stop dwelling on the past."

Kanan turned to look at Hera.

"Hera, you once told me that Ezra didn't need a mentor that broke down whenever something bad happened. That he needed someone who'd fix whatever mistake was made. Well, now I'm going to fix those mistakes. I'm going to take the experience and intel we got from this attempt and use it to prevent another failed mission. Isn't that what you said I needed to do?"

Hera nodded slowly, the guarded look in her eyes slowly softening.

"As for the time it takes to get him back: what do you think is going to help the most: gripping about how long it'll take us to rescue Ezra, or actually acting on it?"

Kanan was met with silence. Then-

"Karabast, Kanan, you're going to get us all killed like that." The Jedi blinked at Zeb, who scratched the back of his head.

"You know we can't just stop assigning ourselves the blame. We're all responsible for getting the kid into this situation in the first place... what makes you think we'll be able to just forget that?"

Kanan stared hard at the Lasat before delivering his answer softly:

"Because as much as we're responsible for getting Ezra into this situation, we're all responsible for getting him out of it. I'm going to continue on trying to help my Padawan, and if you all are serious about keeping your heads where they won't be of any use: fine. Just don't expect me not to say 'I told you so' when I get him out of there."

And with that, Kanan strode out of the bridge. He suddenly felt a wave of appreciation for Hera, who did this sort of thing almost on a daily basis. It was much harder delivering an encouraging pep-talk than she made it out to be, and the Jedi still wasn't entirely sure if he'd succeeded or not.

Walking over to the common room, he stared long and hard at the bench where Ezra had always sat during a game of holo-chess. Kanan still had his own doubts that they could rescue the kid from the maw of the Inquisitor. But, as he'd said, he would get nothing done if he allowed himself to wander down the path of 'what if.'

Walking over to the computer terminal, Kanan pulled up the schematic of the Star Destroyer they had been looking at earlier. Ezra had said that he hadn't made it very far from his cell... which meant that he had to be kept in one of the rooms on detention floor B-38. As for his exact cell... Kanan looked at the surrounding area of where they had seen him. All at once, a vision of his Padawan dangling limply in the air floated before his eyes... but Kanan pushed it down. It would not help him accomplish anything.

"You know... I can help you with that." Kanan looked up to see Sabine standing in the door-way. Her helmet was off, which was new, and he could fully see the hesitant half-smile she was giving him.

"What made you change your mind?" Kanan asked, shuffling over so that Sabine could join him at the computer terminal.

"Well... I just know that as much as we need Ezra here... he needs us as well. And we can't help him if we hole ourselves up, like you said. I think the spot was a little more to the left..." And with that, Sabine helped Kanan to try and pin-point the exact cell Ezra was being kept in. They had narrowed it down to five different cells, all of which were surrounding the spot where they had seen him.

"No no no, you've got it all wrong." Zeb was now standing in the doorway, staring at the enlarged map and the circles that Kanan had drawn over the potential rooms. "The kid's stronger than that, I'd say he'd've made it farther than just outside the door."

Kanan gave the Lasat a questioning look, and he immediately caved.

"You were right, Kanan, okay? I was just too much of a dunce to see it. Hera says that she's with you all the way, by the way."

"Why didn't she just come and tell us herself?"

Zeb grinned. " 'Cause she's coordinating a jump to our next job, that's why. Didn't you say we needed money for supplies?"

Kanan returned his smile gratefully. He knew that his crew still had doubts inside of them, but like him, they had buried them in order to focus on the task at hand."

"Now, you said something about these not being the right rooms. Do you have any suggestion?"

"As a matter of fact I do. Did you all not see the flattened bucket-head half-way inside on of the rooms? I'd bet you my Bo-rifle that was the one the kid was in."

* * *

**Woooo! Now I'm not just plastering you guys with gloom and doom! Although, the next few chapters will be more or less following those lines... don't worry though. I don't like writing nothing but misery, so it'll only be where necessary.**


	20. Breaking Point

**Okay, so... yet another pessimistic chapter... but following Erosion, what else could this one be? Eh. Hope you like it anyways!**

**Disclaimer: Rebels is not mine. Probably because no one in their right mind would give this to a student.**

* * *

**_You failed them. They're all_** **dead.**

The same thought had been running around Ezra's head like a mantra, until in reverberated in his skull as some sick, twisted drum beat. He had failed. They were dead.

When Ezra had woken up, he had desperately tried to reach through the Force. To try and find some sort of sign, some symbol that meant his crew was still alive, that it had just been a dream. A horrifying dream.

But all he was met with was silence. The Force-inhibitor had worn off, he was, for the first time in weeks, free from the influence of any sort of serum. But he could not sense Kanan or the others. Ezra could feel the Inquisitor aboard the ship, and the hundreds of storm-troopers that marched around constantly. But beyond the ship... there was nothing. Nothing to answer his call, his plea, his cry for help. He was alone. They were all dead.

_**They're dead because you couldn't save them.**_

Ezra hadn't been able to do anything. He'd just sat there and watched as one by one, the people that mattered the most to him were murdered. He hadn't even been able to beg for the Inquisitor to spare them. He hadn't been offered the chance to turn to the Dark. Their execution hadn't had any real purpose... except to torment him.

**_You failed them_.**

Ezra rocked back and forth from his sitting position, eyes wide. He was unable to keep the images of their cold, dead, lifeless corpses out of his mind... Sabine, Zeb, Hera, and Kanan. His sister, brother, mother, and father. Dead, dead, dead, and dead. They were all dead. His family was dead.

**_It's your fault._**

_I... I couldn't save them... There was nothing else I could've done!_

_**Because you're weak.**_

_No! I did everything I could!_

_**And it wasn't enough.**_

_But... but... what else could I have done?_

Unable to keep his emotions bottle up, Ezra leaned over to his side and retched violently. There hadn't been much food in his stomach, but what little there was was now gone. He realized he was shaking. And crying.

Hot tears flowed down from his face and mingled with the blood and sick on the ground. His family was dead. There would be no rescue. He was stuck here. Stuck on this Star Destroyer with the Inquisitor, until he eventually gave into the Dark. Now that his one source of hope was gone, how long would Ezra be able to last?

_**There is no rescue. There will not be any escape. You're stuck here.**_

_Then I'll die here! I... I won't give in! I won't let what Kanan taught me go to waste!_

**_But why resist? There is no point._**

_I can't just give into the Inquisitor! Then... then my crew would've died for nothing..._

_**They died because you failed them.**_

_But I did everything I could! And I... I'll keep doing everything... I won't give in..._

_**But what's the point of resisting?**_

_It'll keep Baldy from having a good time. He... I'll do anything to make sure that he doesn't get what he wants._

But Ezra's resistance was weak. His arguments were nothing more than a feeble gust of wind attempting to blow down a wall of bricks. After all, there was no way he was getting out of here...

The door to Ezra's cell opened, and Chip was admitted through it. For the first time, Ezra actually felt fear from the little robot's presence. He brought pain. And he knew that the pain wouldn't have an end. Not until he gave in.

_No! I won't give in!_

_**There isn't a point to resisting though... the only thing that will accomplish is pain.**_

_Then I'll endure the pain for as long as I can, until I reach my breaking point. Even if it drives me insane, I won't give up._

_**But why resist when the war is already lost?**_

_I... I can't give up... not now..._

Chip began his procedures, and Ezra resumed screaming.

* * *

When the little robot left, it was with a new meaning. Before, his departure had meant nothing more than a reprieve, a chance to fortify his strength before the next day.

Now, it meant he was finally able to actively resist against going insane.

Ezra was hardly able to string together a coherent thought, much less prepare new insults for the coming day. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. He was constantly aching from Chip's enthusiastic prodding, while his mind refused to give him peace, both when he was awake and asleep. During the day, it plagued him with thoughts of giving in, while at night it constantly showed him the Inquisitor and the stormtroopers murdering his friends.

Sometimes, his brain went as far as to indulge him with dreams where they weren't gagged, where he could hear their screams for help before the blasters were fired. Those nights, Ezra woke in a mass of cold sweat and tears, unable to go to sleep for the next day. Of course, these were also the days when the 'evil' thoughts berated him the most.

He found it harder and harder to resist the combination of Chip and his own mind. Every single day, he could expect pain. Of course, this was no different than before... it was just now Ezra met every single session with dread taking it's faithful place in his heart. And it refused to go away.

He was cracking, Ezra knew that much. He no longer had a source of strength to fall back upon, no light at the end of the tunnel, no goal for him to hold out for. He had no reason for resisting. That was what the voice kept telling him, and it must be true... after all, there was no hope of rescue, was there? His rescuers were all dead.

They weren't coming to release him from this nightmare. This hell.

And if they weren't coming, as they never would again, then what was the point of resisting? After all, like his thoughts hold him, there wasn't a point to it...

The only thing holding him back from completely caving in to the Inquisitor's demands was his loathing for that particular Pau'an. He wanted to upset Baldy as much as he could, to be as big a thorn in his side as was possible. After all, what else was there to do against the man who'd murdered his crew?

But still... Ezra knew it was only a matter of time before that one little part of him was overrun. He was stretched out to thin, trying to keep himself sane and resisting at the same time. Those two didn't mash up together well. Staying sane meant blocking out the pain Chip gave to him with reason and will. Resisting meant meeting Chip with determination and accepting whatever the bot threw at him. And Ezra knew that he wouldn't be able to do both for very long. Soon, he would have to choose... die for spite, or live for betrayal...

_**But why die for people who are already dead? That wouldn't make any sense now, would it?**_

_Because it's the only thing I can do to aggravate Baldy. I'll stand in his way until I can't stand up anymore. Then... then I'll have to make my choice._

**_I do hope you choose right._**

And Ezra was left with his own thoughts to stew, crying softly in the corner for his ruined life.

* * *

The Inquisitor could feel it. The boy was breaking.

Making him hallucinate of his crew's death had been taxing, and the Inquisitor hadn't been able to move for a little while afterwards, but it was worth it. Now, with the little voice he'd planted in the young Bridger's mind, he was finally cracking.

Taking away his only source of strength had done the trick. Now, whenever I-84-B entered his cell, the droid was met with fear. The child was succumbing to his basic emotions, the ones that the rouge Jedi had trained him so hard to smother.

Soon, the Inquisitor would reap the benefits of his hard work in the form of the ultimate tool.

The Ysalimir placement had finished shortly after the rebel's failed attempt at they essentially created a Force-resistant bubble around the ship, the only things the Inquisitor could feel through the Force was the denizens of the ship. The same would be true for the boy, further convincing the child that the vision had been real and his crew was really dead. Meanwhile, the Jedi would be unable to locate his Padawan again, and another rescue attempt would be impossible.  
Soon, when the boy's defenses broke down completely, the Inquisitor would be fully able to infiltrate his mind and re-wire it. Of course, he could have done that right now, but that would run the risk of completely un-hinging the child. While he would be functional without a few limbs, his mind was required to be one-hundred percent functional, and the Inquisitor would take no risks on that.

No, with the way things were proceeding now, Bridger would be his within a few short days, two weeks at the most. And then the Inquisitor would request an audience with Vader, in person. Whether it was approved or not, he would still travel to Vader's flag ship, the _Executor_, where, with the help of the boy, he would bring down Vader once and for all.

A small smile settled in on the Inquisitor's face, one that did not reach his eyes. His victory was almost completely ensured now. All he had to do was have patience and continue to chip away at the boy's resistance from the inside.

It wouldn't be long now.

* * *

**Okay. I feel kinda bad saying this, but the next chapter's also gonna be a downer. But, something other than just moping is done, the story actually moves forwards. Imagine that! Man, this really is not a good time for Ezra, is it? Ah well. He'll get over it soon.**

**Read on, my friends!**


	21. Giving In

**Oh boy. This is the... well, I would say the breaking point, but that was last chapter. This is... shorter than usual, but I think it has a lot more plot-wise than the last one did. Anyways, enjoy! Well... as much as you can, anyways.**

**Disclaimer: Rebels is not mine. It is not my family's. It's Disney's. And, I guess Disney's family's?**

* * *

_**There's no way out.**_

There's always a way out... if only I stay strong...

_**The same way you were strong enough to watch your crew murdered?**_

_I... I couldn't..._

_**You couldn't save them because you were weak. Lacking.**_

_That... I won't give in!_

_**But why? Your stubbornness will only cause unnecessary pain. That isn't the Jedi way...**_

_It isn't the Jedi way to give up either! I... If I stay true to the Jedi Code, I can stay strong, I... I-I can resist the Inquisitor..._

_**Have you learned nothing? Your Jedi Code did not help you save Kanan... it only hindered you.**_

_No! That's not true!_

_**Then why didn't you save them?**_

_Because I...I..._

_**You couldn't. You were weak. The Code did nothing to help you.**_

_But... Kanan told me not to give in..._

_**It was because he said that that he now lies dead on the floor, as well as the other members of your crew.**_

_But... it was the one thing that kept him strong... that was what kept us together..._

_**Are you together now, hm? If the code was so strong, if it kept you bound to one another, then why are you not with one another now?**_

_I... I don't know..._

_**It's because the Jedi Code was weak. It didn't have the power to save him. It didn't keep you together. It failed you. Just like you failed them.**_

_But..._

_**It's useless. What's the point of being a Jedi if you can't even protect your crew?**_

_Because Kanan believed in me..._

_**And where did that belief put him? Dead on the floor.**_

_But if the Jedi Code was too weak, then what should I have done? I...I couldn't do anything..._

_**You should have fought back. You should have resisted more. You should have used all of your strength...**_

_...All of my strength?_

_**All of it. Even the parts that the Jedi Code would have you cast to the side...**_

_...my emotions..._

_**Yes. Your anger. Your fear. Your hate.**_

_But that goes against everything Kanan taught me! The Jedi way is not to use your emotions as fuel... it's to use logic and reason..._

_**And what happened when you used logic and reason? Kanan died. They all died. Because you didn't use anything and everything you had at your disposal. It was because you didn't use your full arsenal of power that you failed them.**_

_I... I can't..._

_**If you wanted to save them, you should have used everything you had. It was the Jedi Code that stopped you from doing that. It is weak. And because you follow it, you are weak.**_

_But... it's what Kanan said to do..._

_**Then why is he dead?**_

_..._

_**You know you were too weak. The only way you could have saved them was by using the power the Jedi forbade you from.**_

_..._

_..._

_..._

_...  
_

_... so how do I... how do I use it?_

_**Are you going to throw aside what separated you and your family?**_

_I'm...yes. I'm going to learn what I had to to save them._

_**Why?**_

_So that... so that this will never happen again. So that I'll never have to watch my loved ones die. So that I can protect everyone._

_**Good.**_

It was with a sense of elation that the Inquisitor finally dove into the child's open mind. He was finally giving in.

With efficient strokes, the Inquisitor threw aside the broken defenses that the boy himself had torn down from the inside. He was met with the exposed core of the boy, the entity that made Bridger who he was. And with practiced ease, the Pau'an ran into it full force, smothering the boy's exposed innards in darkness.

Dimly he could feel the child's pain at being re-written, but he payed it no mind. The Dark side of the Force wrapped around his mind, replacing the feeble shields that had been there before with a wall of dark and raw power.

It seeped into the cracks of his soul, tarnishing it. Tinting what had been good to be Darker than it was.

The child may have given in with thoughts of saving the ones he loved, but he had ultimately gone down the road to evil paved with good intentions. And the Inquisitor had drove him down it.

It was with satisfaction that he pulled away from the boy, content with his work. The Inquisitor didn't even need to go down to his cell to know that at last, the Bridger child was his to control.

And his tool for reshaping the universe.

* * *

**Nooooo! The Inquisitor's won! Nooo! Don't worry for too long, though. There are still plenty more chapters after this one to right every wrong.**

**Shall we get on to those?**


	22. Preparations

**Alright, once again out of the doom and gloom vibe that the last four chapters had going for them. I like these kinds of chapters so much better... they're much easier to write when you don't have to pretend to be suffering from depression. ANYWAYS!**

**Disclaimer: Star Wars: Rebels is in no way, shape of form belonging to me.**

* * *

"Spectre one to _Ghost_, we could really use some back-up right about now!"

_"Just give me a second, Spectre one, I've got my own problems as well! Or do you want me to bring three Ties into your party as well?"_

"Understood, Spectre two. Just try to hurry up, we're gonna need you real soon."

Kanan put his commlink back inside his utility-belt and shot another bucket-head down. They were on the ice-planet of Hoth, currently backed into a corner by a squad of stormtroopers. The mission had been going according to the plan, but when Zeb had slipped on an ice-patch, the resulting crash had alerted the dozen or so guards to their presence. It hadn't helped that the Lasat had been swearing at the top of his lungs.

_"Don't worry, Kanan, I gotcha. We'll take out these Ties-"_ There was an explosion some distance away- "_r__eal soon."_

Sabine chuckled from her position in the gunner's chair, and Kanan was once again glad that she had refrained from participating in the mission. When she and Hera were both in the _Ghost_, no amount of Ties were safe from them.

"Whatever you do, just do it quick!" Zeb growled, firing another shot from his bo-rifle as he did so. A resulting scream told Kanan the bolt had met it's mark.

The job was simple: steal a decoder, plant a fake one, get the hell off of Hoth. The plan had involved nothing more than sneaking into the bucket-head's compound, silently dispatch the few guards stationed within, switch the real decoder with the fake one, and sneak away. They had been in the last step of the plan before their cover was blown, and now they desperately needed off the surface of the frozen wasteland.

While the crew of the _Ghost_ had cold-weather gear, it was no where near what they needed for long exposure to the negative temperatures they were now experiencing. In this fight, the Imperials had the advantage that their fingers wern't frozen numb. The simplicity of the plan hadn't taken into effect that the raw arctic temperatures would dull their reflexes.

Of course, the plan would've been a lot simpler if a certain Spectre was there to sneak around through the air-ducts.

Another explosion sounded out in the distance, and Kanan knew that it would only be a matter of time before they could escape this bucket of ice.

"Zeb! We need to get somewhere more open!"

"Right, right, let's just mozy on down there, why don't we? If you havn't noticed, we've got bucket-heads pinnin' us down!"

"Oh come on, it's not that bad! All we need is-" With an ear-splitting roar, the _Ghost_ flew over their heads. A single shot from the ship threw all of their enemies down, where they didn't get up again.

_"Now, I believe you said something about needing our assistance?"_

"Hera, you're the best, you know that?"

_"Yes, actually, I do. But thank you."_

The _Ghost _spiraled down, it's ramp extending as it did so. Pocketing the little chip that had caused all this carnage, Kanan followed Zeb towards the ship they called their home.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness came over Kanan, and he nearly slipped because of it. _It's too cold down here, I don't understand how anything could live on this ice-cube._ Vowing to turn the temperature up on the atmosphere controls, Kanan just focused on getting inside the ship without stumbling. _How is Zeb not affected by this monstrous cold? He's wearing less than I am!_

Once the door to the outside had closed behind him, Kanan sighed in relief. The _Ghost_ would always be there for them, as comforting as a mother was to her children. Only one of them was missing.

"You get the decoder?" Sabine had left her position at the gunner's chair. Kanan held up the little white disk before tossing it to the Mandalorian. "Go ahead and take it to Hera, she said she wanted to deliver it to Axle on her own, didn't she?" Sabine gave a lop-sided smile.

"Well, yeah, and I can't blame her. If anyone else went with, I don't think we'd be seeing that slimy git anytime soon."

Axle had continued to be their mission handler and receiver, delivering their payments when the jobs were done. Apparently Fulcrum had continued to see value in him as an apprentice, though Kanan couldn't see why.

It had been three weeks since their failed attempt at rescuing Ezra. The _Ghost_ and her crew had run missions continuously, barely stopping to catch their breath. Some would say that it wasn't healthy for them to continue doing so, but he didn't think that they cared at all. Ezra needed them, and the only way they were going to get him back was if they were properly prepared to do so. That meant fuel, weapons, equipment, and credits.

Which all came from running jobs.

So they had been going on mission after mission, dispatching more bucket-heads in a week that they usually would do in a month. When Axle ran dry, they switched to Visago. When he had nothing more for them to do, they went back to Axle. At first he had sneered at them, saying that they were going to work themselves dry. Since then, not only had they tremendously boosted the Rebellion's standings, but they'd also amassed a large amount of credits and supplies.

Kanan moved into the common room, Zeb right behind him. In the short respites between jobs, this was their only task: plotting their next attempt.

So far, they had managed to dig up that the ship Ezra was being held on was known as the _Imminent Pursuit_, which seemed a fitting name for the flagship of the Inquisitor. They hadn't been able to track its' movements, but they had been able to dig up rumors that it was somewhere in the upper Outer Rim, but so far they had been unable to confirm them. Kanan, however, had a different idea of what to look for.

"Pull up the data-base on Myrkr. I still say there was something special about the cargo they were loading on-board."Zeb sighed, but switched the terminal screen from the _Imminent Pursuit_ to an image of the blue-green planet they had come to know was Myrkr.

"Kanan, we've been over this before. They were probably just hauling up some fuel and supplies."

"From a planet in the Mid-rim? If they needed supplies, they could've just gotten them from any other planet in the Outer Rim than from Myrkr. Seriously, I think..." Kanan paused, a memory catching up to him.

"Hey, Zeb, do you remember what was inside those boxes in the hanger-bay?"

"Sort of. Why?"

Kanan remembered the cargo that the Imperials had been loading into the Star Destroyer. At the time, they had been focused on taking down the bucket-heads before them, so they hadn't been focusing on the shipments the troopers had successfully loaded into the bay. But still...

"They were cages. Like, for animals." Zeb gave out a hearty laugh.

"What, is the Inquisitor loading hundred of pets on his ship? I can't see the guy wanting a loth-cat as a pet, Kanan."

"Well, neither can I, but they were definitely cages... give me a second." With that, Kanan rose from his sitting position at the table and picked up his own portable data-pad. He brought up Myrkr, the same screen that had been displayed before, but this time he examined in thoroughly, looking for anything to do with animals. He was soon rewarded.

"Ysalimir."

"Bless you."

"No no, Zeb, those were what the Inquisitor was loading onto his ship! It's why I can't feel Ezra anymore, they're Force resistant!" Curious, Zeb turned his head from his own terminal and looked at what Kanan was pointing to.

"Karabast, you're right! But what would he want with-" Zeb looked at the data-pad once again- "Ysalimir?"

"I don't know, maybe to try and prevent Ezra from connecting with me again, or maybe-" Kanan stopped. His eyes were about as wide as the _Ghost_'s engines, and his breathing went ragged.

His dizziness had returned, and it had brought friends. A huge head-ache pounded against his brain. His stomach felt sick. He was shaking. Zeb, immediately noticing the change in his captain, shook his shoulder roughly. "Kanan? Kanan what's wrong?! Is it the kid?!"

All at once, his symptoms stopped. Just like when he had connected to Ezra before, his pain was gone as quickly as it had come. Only this time, there was no sense of elation, no mad dash to the cockpit, no hurried plan of rescue. Though, Kanan wasn't sure if he could call that moment connecting.

"Zeb, he's... he's won. The Inquisitor's won. Ezra gave up." Zeb's eyes widened until they mirrored Kanan's own.

"What? Kanan, you _just_ said you couldn't connect with Ezra. So why-"

"Because I didn't need to connect with him to feel it." Kanan slumped down in his chair, not trusting his legs to hold him up for much longer. "Every Jedi pair has a Master-Apprentice bond. It's... it's not like an enhanced comm frequency or what-not, just something that binds the two together. I... that bond just weakened. By a lot."

Kanan stared at the image of Myrkr on his data-pad. It had only been three weeks... did Ezra really lose faith in them that quickly? He had _just_ seen that they were actively trying to rescue him... how could he give up so quickly?

Ezra had given up on them. He had lost hope. Why?

What had the Inquisitor done to his Padawan that made him surrender so quickly? Did Kanan even want to know? But the one thought that constantly circled around in his head was quite simple and straight-forward. They had to get Ezra out of there. Fast. Before the Inquisitor used his hopelessness to warp Ezra to the Dark side of the Force.

"Zeb, where've the rumors said the _Imminent Pursuit_ was docked?" Perhaps the Lasat noticed a certain hardness to the Jedi's eyes, because he answered without hesitation: "Some say around Dantooine, others say Mon Calamari. Either way, we've only got enough fuel in the tank to get to one of them."

Kanan nodded, then rose out of his chair. It was with a brisk pace that he once again headed towards the cockpit, determination boiling down to conviction. They were not going to let the Inquisitor reshape Ezra into something none of them recognized. They were going to save him, and this time, for real.

"Hera, with the credits we have, can we buy enough fuel to go to Mon Calamari _and_ Dantooine?" The Twi'lek looked up in surprise, but answered his question.

"Yes, but just barely. Why? I still need to deliver the decoder to Axle." Kanan shook his head.

"Change of plan. We have to get Ezra. Soon. Otherwise, I'm afraid we'll never be able to get to him again."

* * *

**Finally! A promise of more action! Unfortunately, I'm gonna have to take a break in-between this chapter and the release of the next one. I've been updating so fast because a everything that has been posted before this was prewritten, but now I'm quickly coming to an end of chapters already done. If I don't want to run myself dry, I'll have to start working on creating those stories now, and take a break from posting. It shouldn't affect posting times for _too_ long, but just a warning.**

**Thank you all!**


	23. A Shadow of Myself

**Yeah, I'm back again! And this time, with a chapter of doom... mua ha ha. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: As shown by the multitudes of disclaimers before this, Star Wars: Rebels isn't mine.**

* * *

"If you want to survive, release all of your emotions. Let your power surge through you until all of your enemies lie dead."

Ezra sent out a wave of energy, knocking down the dozen or so stormtroopers that were firing at him. Allowed a single moment of respite until they got back to their feet, he took in a deep breath, already preparing for his next attack.

The only way to power was through the Inquisitor. The only way he would give him power was if he survived the tests given to him. And to do that, he had to follow the instructions given out to him by the Pau'an.

There was no way around it. The Jedi Code hadn't been powerful enough to help him save his family. He needed something bigger. Something stronger. And the Inquisitor was giving it to him.

Ever since he had made the decision to conform to the Inquisitor's way, Ezra had been changed. He was no longer hesitant to unleash his power. He now fully expressed his feelings, his anger. His new master was his source of power, but he also was severely hated by his new apprentice. But he knew that. The Inquisitor said that hatred was always a faithful companion in the Sith relations.

Ezra just went along with it. The Inquisitor was his new source of power. But when he had given all that he had to offer, Ezra would no longer 'train' under him. He had not forgotten that it was he who had murdered his family. But the idea of revenge would only come to light through the accumulation of power. Neither followed the way of the Jedi. Both were encouraged in his new training.

He was the Inquisitor's new apprentice, but he was still a prisoner on the _Imminent Pursuit_. The Inquisitor had moved Ezra from his previous cell to another one, a closer one. Granted, it was not much better than the room he had previously been staying in, but at least there was padding on the bed and the floors were blood-free. Perhaps the greatest change in his living arrangements was the absence of Chip. Now that the droid had stopped coming in daily, Ezra no longer started the day with pain and fear.

He still had the nightmares, though. And the Inquisitor was doing nothing to stop them. Of course, why would he? Every time he saw his dead family before his eyes, new anger was brought up to the surface. More power. Which was what he wanted.

However, instead of being waken up to Chip each new day, there was the Inquisitor with the new day's challenge, the next training session. Each one was harder than the last, and each left Ezra feeling drained. Ezra couldn't help but feel that the Inquisitor was rushing, wanting to make Ezra as strong as he could before... something. It didn't matter to Ezra, though. The faster his training was complete, the faster he could cast aside the Inquisitor.

When the day was done and Ezra returned to his room, he would attempt to meditate. His connection to the Force didn't seem to be any stronger, but the Inquisitor continued to say that it was. Of course, he also said that he was stronger just for turning away from the weak morals of the Jedi.

These statements had been followed in lessons such as this, where he was put in a hanger-bay and told to survive against squads of troopers with nothing but his body.

Of course, his body wasn't in the best condition. He was still bloody and sore from the days where Chip had free reign, but without the constant opening of his scars, they had begun to slowly heal. His throat was almost to the point of being useless, but the Inquisitor had no sympathy for him and his pain. He hadn't sent Ezra to the medical bay to treat his injuries, because the pain would 'act as a stimulant for your mind. It will reshape you, give you more power.' He had also not given Ezra any new clothes, leaving him with the tattered, stained pilot's suit he had always worn.

However, when he was put under active exercises, like this one, his wounds would sometimes open again. Now, though, he was slightly worried that they would become infected, as he was no longer in just his single sterile cell. Already, he had his suspicions that a nasty gash on his left arm had been infected. It was always that arm.

In the beginning, he had let his pain control him. He would move to a certain side or angle while dodging the blaster-fire, to try and minimize the pain that moving would cause him. However, the multiple blaster shots that he had sustained because of these extra movements quickly taught Ezra to just grit his teeth, deal with the pain, and move as much as he had to.

The Inquisitor was not so nice as to tell his troopers to turn their blasters on stun, or so low that their shots would only shock him. The blasters were still firing regular bolts, only turned down slightly so that Ezra wouldn't die.

But he would survive whatever it took to gain power. He hadn't had power before. That had caused suffering. He would gain power. Then he wouldn't suffer. That was the only way to not get the ones he loved killed.

So Ezra would deal with the horrendous exercises that the Inquisitor put him through. He would jump through the hoops he put in front of him. He would survive these mental and physical torments. He would get stronger.

Already prepared, Ezra leaped on top of a transport, the high-ground. It gave the troopers a full view of him, but also gave him a full view of them. As they were scattered far and wide in the hanger-bay, this would be difficult, but Ezra didn't care.

Ezra brought his hands together. Even though it caused his arms to sting, Ezra gritted through the pain and instead connected to the Force. Answering his beckon, the stormtroopers all flew into the center of the room, unable to move around, colliding with one another. Then, his hands moved apart violently. The troopers followed his movements and slammed into the opposite walls of the bay, where they stayed, limp.

Silence permeated the bay, while Ezra stood in the middle, panting.

The Inquisitor began to clap very slowly. "Good, Ezra, very good. Now, jump down from your perch there and come here. I have one more task for you."

Obediently, Ezra hopped off of the transport, wincing as his sore legs hit the ground, and walked over to his 'Master'. Oh, how he longed for the days when he could finally get rid of this Pau'an... and finally exact revenge on the murderer of his family.

With a flick of his hand, the Pau'an summoned a trooper from his spot on the wall, and set him down in front of Ezra. He pointed down at the unconscious man. "Kill him." Shivers ran down Ezra's spine.

Ezra had yet to kill a stormtrooper. Well, he'd already killed them when working with the members of the _Ghost_, but that had been blaster-kill. Indirect. Ezra had yet to actually kill someone with the Force, to watch their signature slowly fade away. He'd come close, but he'd always stopped before tumbling down the edge of that particular precipice. Once he took a life in that way, his path would be set. There would be no turning back. Ezra wanted power, but he was still afraid to make that much of a commitment.

The Inquisitor, however, seemed very eager to drive him over that far. Whenever he had the opportunity, he would egg Ezra on, trying to get him to make that one, unforgivable act... but Ezra had always resisted him. Now, it seemed that there would be no resisting.

He looked down at the un-moving man. For once, Ezra was glad that they kept their helmets on at all times. This way, he wouldn't have to know who he was taking the life of. Who... who he was going to kill. Ezra took a steadying breath, and reached out through the Force.

* * *

_"Hey, Kanan?"_

_"Yeah, kid?"_

_"If the Jedi were peacekeepers, then why did they have lightsabers?" Kanan looks up from his data-pad to see his apprentice shifting uncomfortably._

_"Because sometimes there were people who opposed peace. They wanted to see the galaxy at war. They... they couldn't be reasoned with. Where the Jedi wanted to be at ease with the Force, there were those that wanted to rule over it. Wherever there is light, there is darkness."_

_"So... we made lightsabers because of the SIth?" Kanan smiles at his young Padawan's hesitancy. It reminds him very much of his own youth._

_"That's right, bucko. They forced us to go to battle with them. It was that or die."_

_Ezra frowns. "So...so the Jedi, in order to survive, turned from their teachings and killed?" Kanan's look becomes serious and looks Ezra straight in the eyes._

_"It's not like what you're thinking. Way back when, they didn't have a choice. It was either meet the Sith head on, or let them rampage around the galaxy as they wished. And besides," Kanan's tone softens, "they never killed if they could help it. Whenever possible, they only took those that they had bested into custody, to let them be properly judged for their crimes. The Jedi were **not** like the Sith._

_"But when the Clone Wars came, everything changed. We gravitated towards fighting because that was what the Republic required of us. Before the war, we were only scholars and peace-keepers. Then we grew into generals, and our style of life had to change. We taught more lightsaber techniques. More damaging Force control. Because that was what it took to keep ourselves and our men alive._

_"Taking a life is a damaging thing, Ezra. You cut away that person's connection to the Force, you actively smother their signature. I... we take out those troopers because it's what we have to do to survive. To ensure that the Empire is defeated. But we don't mindlessly kill, do we?"_

_Ezra shakes his head, then looks thoughtful._

_"Well, Zeb might, I don't know... but I get your point." Kanan smiles._

_"Good. And Ezra... don't be too harsh on yourself. We kill, yes. But four times out of five, those troopers are only knocked out. And besides, you don't see me actively hunting down troopers, using the Force to assassinate them, do you?"_

_Again, Ezra shakes his head._

_"And that's because all lives are precious. All lives are connected to the Force. Killing like we do, with guns and explosives... it doesn't make it any better, but again, we just do it because we have to. I don't kill with the Force because it's... well, it's just wrong. You get my point?"_

_"Yeah, yeah I do, Kanan. Thanks." With one last smile at his Master, Ezra leaves his room._

* * *

He couldn't do it. Ezra couldn't kill the man. He could feel him through the Force, feel his life force pulse and fluctuate, and yet he couldn't kill him. He couldn't take his life. Kanan's words were ringing in his ears like bells, stopping him from going over the edge. He couldn't do it.

"I... I can't." His voice was scratchy and his throat burned, but Ezra ignored it.

"You can't?"

"No. I won't kill this man."

The Inquisitor stared at him through narrowed eyes. Ezra met his stare, held it until he felt a crushing pressure in his head, driving him to his knees. His eyes watered, and his senses dulled.

"It seems I was not nearly as harsh as I should have been. Kill this man. Now." At his last word, power rippled through Ezra's head, so much it caused him to gasp.

"...No." The pain intensified.

"Very well then. It seems you have left me without a choice... you _will_ follow my commands." The pressure doubled. "You _will_ become the ultimate tool." Tripled. "Even if I have to completely strip away your personality and self-control."

With an iron grip, the Inquisitor broke through the mental shields he himself had placed. Immediately Ezra's head felt as though it had split in two. Before, the Pau'an had reserved himself from breaking Ezra's shields completely by himself, to preserve Ezra's sanity. But as he himself had forced them upon Ezra's mind, so could he rip them away without any repercussions.

Except, of course, the immense pain Ezra felt that resulted from him doing so. Ezra twitched on the floor, his mind completely exposed the the Pau'an before him. With no mercy what-so-ever, the Inquisitor dove into his mind, hunting down that which defied him.

Ezra tried to resist, tried to push him out of his most sacred secret, but there was nothing he could do against the terror before him. With yet another tremendous push from the Inquisitor, Ezra felt himself fading away.

Not from consciousness, he was still very much so awake. But he was slipping out of control. He found it harder and harder to move, even to think... Another squeeze. He was just barely in control of his body. Ezra tried to get up, but all he did was twitch feebly.

"And now, young Bridger," the Inquisitor leaned in close to Ezra, his pointed teeth forming a terrifying visage, "you are _mine_."

Ezra was no longer in control. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. Was he even alive?

"Get up."

His body followed his Master's command, only responding to the thoughts and senses the Pau'an allowed him to. He did not register that moving his body had caused pain to his muscles.

"Kill him."

Ezra looked down at the armored man who lay on the floor. Without questioning, without thinking, he raised his arm, pointing it towards the unconscious trooper. He reached out into the Force, and grabbed onto the signature that was the soldiers. With a squeeze, he popped the bright light that had signified life.

The trooper jerked once on the floor, and then was completely still. He was dead.

The Inquisitor laughed cruelly. Ezra stared at him blankly. After all, he had nothing to do. Nothing except what his master told him to do. He was nothing without the Pau'an's commands.

Nothing but a shadow of himself.

* * *

**Dang it. Ezra's gone.**

**I'm kind of sad to say it, but I'm almost out of pre-written stuff to give you guys! I've got four more complete chapters after this one, but then: I'll have to type like crazy to continue the story. Good thing it's a weekend!**


	24. Broken, but not Defeated

**Okay. After that last chapter, I feel this one is much-needed... though the next one has excitement in it as well. Thank you guys again for your support!**

**Disclaimer: You see, I don't actually own anything... and as Rebels falls under the category of anything, it's not mine either.**

* * *

"No no no, look: I can't see the Inquisitor payin' a visit to the Mon Calamari. He's just not that type of person. Kanan said there was a Jedi enclave or something there, so I think it's a lot more likely that he's gonna be there." Sabine looked at Zeb, his argument obviously frustrating her.

"And what if he's not just going there on his own? Regardless of what you 'see him' doing, the Inquisitor's still got a boss. Right now, the Mon Calamari aren't being to subservient to the Empire as they used to be. Maybe he was sent there to negotiate!" Zeb laughed.

"You just don't wanna admit that I'm right!"

"What? I just gave you a legitimate reason for Mon Calamari!"

"But you know it's Dantooine."

"Zeb!"

"Will you two please cut it out?" Kanan called out behind him, eyes still focused on the data-pad in front of him. "We're heading to both, so it doesn't matter. The _Imminent Pursuit_ is either gonna be on one or the other, or our sources were all wrong."

"But Kanan!"

"No. If you still feel the need to quarrel, take it out on Chopper." Indignant beeps from the outside corridor sounded out the bot's displeasure at being targeted, but Sabine laughed.

"Actually, I might just go ahead and dismantle him right now..." Zeb stood up and cracked his knuckles threateningly, and Chopper ran screaming down the hall for Hera. The Lasat followed him, thundering down the metal halls with enough noise to make a rock want to complain.

Kanan groaned. "I better stop him from actually destroying Chop..." Reluctantly, Kanan stood up from his seat and threw the data-pad to Sabine, stretching. Currently, its' only purpose was to serve as a news relay. Any news regarding the _Imminent Pursuit_ provided to them by the Rebellion was stored on here, and the crew had spent the past few days sifting through it all, trying to find out where the Star Destroyer was.

Kanan headed out of the common room, following the onslaught of noise that heralded Zeb and Chopper. It seemed the bot hadn't been able to get to Hera in time for the Twi'lek to save him from the menace that was the Lasat.

"Zeb! I didn't mean it literally! Zeb, come on..." The two rounded the corner, Chopper in pursuit of Zeb, shocker extended. It seemed that the little droid had had enough. Stepping to the side of the hall as to not get trampled, Kanan just shook his head as the pair continued to run throughout the _Ghost_. Kanan was glad to see that they were taking his advice to heart and locking up their doubts where it couldn't affect them.

"_Kanan._"

Almost sheepishly, the Jedi pulled his communicator out and answered the pilot.

"Yeees?"

"_Why does it sound as though I have a herd of banthas running around on my ship?_"

"Um..." There was a yell from further on down as Chopper finally caught up to Zeb. "No reason."

"_No reason, huh? Whatever. Anyways, come up here. We need to talk."_

Kanan sighed, but headed up to the cock-pit. Hera was not to be denied, especially not on her ship.

"What's the matter?" Hera swiveled around in her pilot's chair, a frown on her face. "It seemed I wasn't entirely correct before. We only have enough fuel to head towards Mon Calamari, and even then, I doubt if we'll be able to scrape enough credits together to refuel the _Ghost_. I know we have to get there," she added, seeing the look that crossed over Kanan's face, "but this bird won't run on will power alone."

Kanan flopped down in the chair usually occupied by Zeb with a sigh. Ezra needed them, but there was nothing he could do.

"How many credits would we get from completing the decoder mission?"

"Not enough. It would help, but fuel is expensive, especially down here." Kanan nodded. It seemed that the Force would not allow Ezra's rescue to go as planned, though he couldn't figure out _why_.

"Then I guess we'd better take another job from Axle. If we don't have enough supplies and such to go now, then we'd bette-"

Kanan's head was being ripped apart. His soul was cracking. His entire body was on fire. There was an extreme pressure that seemed to originate from inside his own mind... Kanan heard screaming, and wondered if it was his own. He wondered if he _was_. After all, if he existed, shouldn't he be able to move on his own?

Instead he felt like he was floating. Away from his consciousness, from the _Ghost_, from the Inquisitor... wait, he was no where near the Inquisitor, wasn't he?

The pressure in his head doubled. Tripled. And then, Kanan wasn't exactly sure what happened, but he seemed not to be in the _Ghost_.

His surroundings were still metal, but it was a much larger area than the cockpit he had been in. It was huge and open, and there was a numbing pain inside of his skull.

"**Get up.**" He felt his body move without his consent, and he found himself standing.

"**Kill him.**" Kanan's head tilted downwards, and he saw a large white shape on the floor. He reached out into the Force, felt the man's life-force, and extinguished it. Laughter filled his ears. It wasn't the nice, benign laughter of his crew... it was bone-chilling and terrifying.

"**Finally. Now you're ready to take your rightful place as my tool... Go now. I will wake you when we arrive at Kashyyyk... apprentice.**" And as Kanan's body began moving once more, the cold, cruel laughter resumed once more. It was strange though, Kanan seemed not to care at all...

* * *

"I... I don't know, Hera. He's pretty bad."

"You don't have to tell me that, Sabine, I can see the monitors."

"Karabast, this is just the perfect time."

"Zeb, you don't mean that..."

"No... no I don't. Still, they got the kid, and now Kanan's in critical condition... Things just seem to be going great, don't they?"

"Yeah, I see your point."

"Hera... what'll happen if... if Kanan dies?"

"...I..."

"Oh, come on, did you guys really lose faith in me that fast?" There seemed to be a huge commotion as chairs were scraped, one apparently having fallen back.

"Kanan!"

The Jedi opened his eyes blearily and was met with the relieved, if still slightly concerned, faces of Hera and Sabine. Zeb had apparently fallen back in his chair. "I'm still kickin' it."

"Oh my gosh Kanan, you scared us!" It was with a slight humbling sensation that he noticed there were tear tracks running down the Twi'lek's face. Sabine also seemed to be on the edge of tears, though she looked slightly more in control than Hera did.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't leave you guys like that."

"You better not, 'cause then I'd have to be captain and I ain't doin' that."

"Somehow, I think Hera would be captain before you, Zeb." Kanan turned a serious face to Hera. "What in the name of the Force happened?" Hera's eyes clouded over a little, but her voice was strong as she spoke.

"Well, you were saying that we needed to get another job from Axle," Kanan nodded, he knew that much on his own, "and then you..." Hera frowned, in thought. "You sort of... collapsed. You were jerking around violently, clutching your head... I thought you were having a seizure or something..." Hera shook her head, leku swinging gently.

"I couldn't get you to stop, by talking or trying to hold you down. So I called in Zeb,"

"An' I brought you in here. It wasn't easy either, you were thrashing around a lot."

"Well. We hooked you up, and..." Hera frowned, worry still etched in her face. Kanan found it disconcerting that no one was looking him in the eyes. Sabine picked up for Hera.

"You stats weren't to good, boss. We actually thought that you..."

"Might not make it, yeah, I heard. Anything else?" The Mandalorian shook her head, but Zeb snorted. "Well, other than the fact refused to stop holding your head, no. Seriously, I had half a mind to get a crow-bar just to try and peel your hands off..."

"And now it's our turn to ask: What happened?" Hera was looking straight at him, a steely gaze in her eyes telling him that there was no way she was going to accept anything but the truth. Well, it wasn't as though he was planning on not telling them... They had to know what Kanan now knew.

"The Inquisitor's done something to Ezra. The Master-Padawan bond I have with him is almost completely gone." Hera gasped, and Zeb's eyes widened in concern, but Kanan wasn't just giving them bad news.

"I know where they are, though."

Immediately, the three Spectres surrounding him started talking all at once, enough to make Chopper, who was sitting in the corner, shake his robot head. Kanan calmed them down, though he too himself felt like leaping into action.

"Kashyyyk. The Inquisitor's taking Ezra to Kashyyyk. And... I don't think Ezra's gone through anything more pleasant than I have."

* * *

**Woo! Excitement! Things are finally happening again! And soon, there will be an epic climax, like nothing seen before... but that's come in a few more chapters time. Thanks again!**


	25. The Beginning of the End

**Yet another Inquisitor chapter! Now, this one isn't as intense as the others... however, there is a little _something_ to make you all gasp at the end. Enjoy! ;)**

**Disclaimer: See these? *shakes legal documents* These show Rebels isn't mine!**

* * *

"_Your presence is not required on Kashyyyk, Inquisitor. I have my own business to attend to. Myrkr was far enough a diversion from your duties in the Outer Rim._"

"Yes, Lord Vader. I understand." With a small technological beep, the hologram of Darth Vader's head disappeared. The Inquisitor raised his head from it's bow, glaring at the place where his master had previously been.

The Inquisitor understood, but he did not obey. This would be the end of Vader, and the beginning of a new rein in the galaxy. For once the Inquisitor took Vader's place, where else could he end up but in the Emperor's throne itself? That was the natural path of the Sith... to overcome one's master...

But the Inquisitor was not yet a Sith. In order to gain his name, he first had to over-throw his puppet-master. And now that the Bridger child was fully under his control... that dream was now going to be reality.

It was a pity, though, that the Inquisitor had had to reduce the child to nothing more than an obedient mass of flesh.

Granted, it was much easier to manipulate him without having to maneuver around his whimsey morals and feelings. But before, the child had been able to think for himself, which would have made him a much better fighter. But no matter. The Inquisitor could handle his tool being just slightly less useful than to not have it work at all.

He had shown signs of disobedience. No, not just signs... Bridger had actually refused an order from the Inquisitor. He would've normally just punished the child before moving on, but when the Inquisitor had moved in to investigate exactly what was causing the disturbance, he had been met with a memory. Of the Jedi.

The Inquisitor knew that the child believed with all of his heart that his family was dead. And he knew that the boy would do whatever it took to gain the power necessary to take revenge on the Inquisitor. He was perfectly fine with that.

However, if Bridger had been held back from gaining power by the few words of a rouge Jedi he believed dead... then that would lead to doubts about his power source, which would ultimately result in the child openly rebelling against him. And that would only lead to the boy's destruction.

However, this just made it that much easier as well. Years from now, when the Inquisitor overthrew the Emperor himself, he would not have an apprentice constantly seeking to dethrone him, instead he would have a completely obedient servant. Yes, perhaps this was all for the greater good.

The process itself was a simple one. Before, when the boy had first given in, the Inquisitor had merely tainted him with darkness, taking away any hesitancy to unleash his full power. Three single standard days ago, he had completely isolated the boy's self control center from the rest of his mind, leaving him just an empty shell, ready to take directions from his master.

Right now, the child was alone in his cell. He hadn't still fully recuperated, and the Inquisitor could see that a couple of I-84-B's cuts and gashes were infected. No matter. They were on their way to Kashyyyk even now, and a trip to the medical facilities onboard the _I__mminent Pursuit_ would only leave bulky bandages and gauzed areas. Even bacta, which they had plenty of, would take too long to operate efficiently, leaving the boy with limited and awkward mobility.

Of course, the Inquisitor wasn't planning on having the boy go into a direct confrontation with his master. That would just result in the immediate dispatchment of his so recently acquired tool. Instead, the Inquisitor himself would engage in lightsaber combat with Vader, while Bridger used his excellent connection to the Force to distract and engage Vader with mental fighting. With both of them using their best skill to the extreme, they would emerge triumphant, and the galaxy would only profit from it.

The final battle would be coming soon. In perhaps a few hours, the goal which the Inquisitor had been working towards for the better part of a year would finally be realized.

Vader would be overthrown. The Inquisitor would take his place. He would become a true Sith, apprenticed to the supreme ruler of the Galaxy. And then... just like all Sith, he would run the natural course and succeed the Emperor, becoming the most feared being known to the Empire.

The best thing was, the Inquisitor wasn't doing it for power. That didn't hold a place in his heart. What allured him was the Dark. The side of the Force that the Jedi feared. Vader had told him, had drilled it into him, that as he was to rule the Force, so would the Force rule him. Like a moth attracted to a flame, he was drawn to the Force. And more power meant more connection to it.

And so everything would fall into it's proper place.

"_Sir, we'll be arriving at Kashyyyk in less than two hours_." His commander crackled in through the comm, dutifully alerting the Inquisitor of their position.

The Inquisitor took a deep breath before answering: "Very good. Inform me once we are at the one hour mark, commander. That is all."

"_Yes, sir._"

When the resounding 'click' from the comm told the Inquisitor that the officer had terminated the call, he pressed a button on his terminal, which activated his own communications channel into the Bridger boy's cell.

"Go to hanger bay seven. We have one final practice session before we commence our mission on Kashyyyk."

There was no response, but that was only to be expected. After all, the Inquisitor hadn't told him to. After separating Bridger's free will from his consciousness, he had been left nothing more than a completely empty shell of a person. The only thing that was allowing him to move and fight was the Inquisitor's will: which did not require the boy to reply to his statements. Only execute them.

The best thing was, the Inquisitor didn't even have to verbally command the child, though it had a greater effectiveness. Since almost the entirety of Bridger's mind was controlled by the Pau'an, it was finely tuned to his own Force signature. If the Inquisitor required it, the child would be aware of it, and it was done. This would come in handy while fighting Vader, as the Inquisitor had no doubt that he would be pre-occupied while engaging in direct combat.

The Inquisitor left his room, knowing that when he returned, he would be victorious.

The child was already waiting in hanger-bay seven when the Inquisitor arrived, standing there with a blank look in his eyes. He was not allowed free reign in the ship, as he was constantly escorted by a pair of stormtroopers, but they were hardly necessary now. The boy would not do anything unless his master wished it.

"Your presence is not required inside, soldiers." At once, the two storm-troopers on either side of Bridger gave a salute, and backed off to remain at the hanger-bay entrance.

This was the same hanger that the boy had taken his first life with the Force. It had been reserved for the Inquisitor's purpose, so there was no other life-form in it: except for them. They walked into the center of the room, hanger doors closing shut behind them. There was a multitude of boxes piled in the center, completely empty, as he had requested.

"Scatter the boxes." No sooner had the command left the Inquisitor's mouth then the random assortment of crates piled in the middle of the deck flew outwards in all directions, thudding against the walls and ceiling of the bay.

"Drop all but one." A single box was left floating in the air, hovering slightly as though waiting for his next command. It seemed, that without any doubts or fears or emotions, the child's connection to the Force had grown all the stronger. Well, without any distractions, how could it not? Right now, the only thoughts Bridger had swirling through his head were what the Inquisitor let through, or his own commands to the child.

However, he knew perfectly well that the voice commands would work. What he needed to do was test the limits of his will that had been imposed on and in Bridgers' mind. Without saying anything, the Inquisitor thought about the single solitary crate moving towards him.

It was not as instantaneous as when he had actually ordered the child to do it, but within a few seconds the crate began floating towards the Pau'an. It stopped just inches away from him.

Deciding to take his tests one step further, the Inquisitor willed the box to be moved to the left, simultaneously saying: "Move the crate to the right." There was once again a moment of hesitation before the crate moved to the left.

_It seems that he responds to what I_ will _to be done with him, but responds faster to direct orders... I should work on his reaction time so that I shan't be yelling out commands when locked in lightsaber combat. That would give away too much of my strategy._

The Inquisitor once more willed the entire mass of the crates upward, and they responded sluggishly. He spared a glance at the child.

Bridger was staring at the Pau'an; bright blue eyes, though clouded over, meeting yellow. It was not a challenge, more like an empty gaze, waiting for the next command to occupy the vessel those eyes resided in.

Maybe he should give him back some of his free will...

No. Bridger would be immediately suspicious and on the offense as to why the Inquisitor had taken complete control over his mind, which would almost completely undermine everything that had worked towards so far. That would not do.

Still, though. It was a shame that his once calculating demeanor had fallen down into this empty container, unable to think for itself. It cut his effectiveness down in half if he had to be told exactly how to do everything.

Did he?

In a single experimental phrase, the Inquisitor tried to test out the exact limits of what the boy could now do on his own.

"Terminate that Ysalimir." And he pointed a single long finger towards the solitary creature attached to the left wall of the hangar bay. Since they had been positioned on the outer layers of the _Imminent Pursuit_\- to completely ensure that the entire vessel was covered in a shield of a Force resistant shield- the animals were visible in some places. After all, they could not live attached to the outer hull in the vacuum of space.

But because of the protective Force-bubble they surrounded themselves with, any crate that the child would try to fling at the furry rodent would fall short, unable to be manipulated by the Force any longer. So how would the Bridger actually take out the creature?

As expected, one of the crates flew towards the Ysalimir he had pointed towards, only to stop dead and fall to the floor before actually coming into contact with the beast. The Inquisitor studied Bridger intently, watching how he would react, and how he would proceed.

What he did would have made the Inquisitor chuckle, if he had not been above such things.

Within a second, a single bland crate had flown _above_ the Ysalimir, up beyond the range of the creature's natural protective shield, when the boy dropped it. He let the artificial gravity aboard the _Imminent Pursuit_ deliver the block of metal to his target, effectively using his resources. With a small discharge of electricity, the Ysalimir and it's protective case of nutrients wrapped around it fell to the ground. The Inquisitor saw the creature stir slightly, but it did not move. Being a race of creature that lived by extracting nutrients out of trees, they were not required to move around to survive. It just wasn't necessary for their survival.

And then, Bridger effectively threw another crate at the Ysalimir from behind it. He was not able to directly manipulate the box's movements while it was within the invisible bubble of Force resistance, but with enough momentum, the crate was able to push the furry lizard across the smooth floor of the hangar-bay and towards the pair of humanoids.

The Inquisitor only had a single moment before the Ysalimir was brought into range of his apprentice to realize that this particular exercise might possibly have been a mistake.

As soon as momentum had brought the furry creature within range of the child, the Inquisitor's connection to him was cut off. While the prevention of allowing the child's self-control facilities to operate did not actively take attention to accomplish, the Inquisitor still needed to be connected with the child through the Force for his 'modifications' to his mind to be effective. Thus, as soon as the protective 'bubble' of Force-repellant energy enveloped Bridger, the Inquisitor was no longer in control.

Surrounded by the shield from the Force provided to him by the Ysalimir, Ezra had accidentally escaped the Inquisitor's influence.

* * *

**Master has given Ezra an Ysalimir... Ezra is free!**

**Unfortunately for you, Dobby/Ezra, you're still alone with the Inquisitor. And only I know what happens next! Excited for it? I hope so, 'cause it took FOREVER to write it to the point where I liked it.**

**Thanks for all the support and reviews!**


	26. End Game: Part I

**And now, we return to the exciting adventures of Ezra and his battles against the Inquisitor! Wow, I really do write long chapters... but I'm told you guys like them, so have at thee!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Rebels, would I really be posting a story online instead of just making it so?**

* * *

**Move all of the crates upward.**

With nothing more than a flicker of thought, the body of Ezra Bridger connected to the Force, and sent out tendrils of thought towards all of the individual boxes. Within a second, they had all risen into the air, floating calmly. It was what his Master wanted.

Clouded blue eyes stared at the Inquisitor, waiting until his next instruction. It was all he could do until he was given another task. After all, what else was there besides the bidding of his Master?

He pointed over to a furry lizard on the left wall of the hangar-bay. "Terminate that Ysalimir."

**Terminate the Ysalimir**. With a single flick, the boy sent one of the many boxes he held with the Force towards the creature, intending to smash the delicate machinery wrapped around it and mangle the creature with the box. It stopped maybe ten feet before actually hitting the target.

**Terminate the Ysalimir.** But the box was not moving. How could he if the box wasn't moving anymore? Try as he might, he couldn't reconnect that slender tendril of thought that had made the box fly forth. It refused to budge, instead staying stationary on the hangar floor. Fine then. He'd use another box. Work around the problem.

One of the featureless crates shot up into the air, higher than the others, avoiding the void in the Force he was sensing around the target. It was his job to eliminate the Ysalimir. So he would.

When the box was directly above the Ysalimir, he allowed it to fall. Artificial gravity would knock the creature off of its' protective attachments to the wall of the ship. It would allow the boy to move the Ysalimir closer towards him.

The box was no longer under his control. Gravity flung it down, and it accomplished the task the boy had set up for it. Now it was his turn to accomplish the task his Master had set up for him.

**Terminate the Ysalimir**.

With the flinging of crates on the smooth floor, he was able to effectively 'kick' the creature across the floor and closer to him. He did not even register it's squeals as it was forced to be removed from its' stable position. He did not care. His Master had not told him to care. His Master had told him to terminate.

It was close enough that with another flick of a crate, he would be within range of termination, so that he could fulfill his Master's role, so that he could mo-

* * *

Ezra Bridger's eyes unclouded as he saw for the first time in seventy-two standard hours. He could think again- he could move on his own! He was his own to control!

He slumped down on the floor pathetically. It seemed not being in control of his own body had meant that while someone else was in control, his own operating systems had taken a break. Now, it was harder than normal to do simple tasks, such as stand up. Well, he supposed that he should be grateful his inner organs hadn't fried.

He was his own again! Ezra was finally once again in control of his own body, not just some maniacal puppet for the Inquisitor to throw around at his whim...

The Inquisitor.

Just thinking his name (it felt good to be able to think about what he wanted again) made Ezra's elation tone down a bit. Not only had the Pau'an murdered his crew, but he had also taken advantage of Ezra's engineered hunt for power to turn him into his own personal doll... for what?

Strange memories unfolded, of the Inquisitor- no, not of him himself, just his... wishes? Ezra could see, in his mind's eye, himself sitting quietly in his new cell, finely attuned to his 'Master's' (the word made Ezra shudder) will. The Inquisitor wanted to use him.

To defeat Vader.

Ezra shuddered slightly, but forced his body to sit up. His groggy- but clear- eyes focused on the Pau'an before him, and he felt a sudden burst of appreciation for the small fuzzy Ysalimir on the deck floor next to him. It was because of that creature's natural defense mechanisms that Ezra was able to see the priceless look on one of his biggest enemy's face.

"Sorry Baldy, but you're not gonna me that easy." His voice cracked from dis-use, and Ezra winced as he realized that, while the three days of silence had been beneficial to his throat, it was still sore from all of his weeks of screaming. He could barely use it.

The Inquisitor's eyes narrowed, but he couldn't do anything Force-related to punish Ezra for his remark. As there was nothing else he could do from the distance he was from Ezra, he was probably safe from the Pau'an's machinations. Just for safety's sake though, Ezra inched closer to the Ysalimir, going deeper inside the protective bubble of it's protection. He'd never known about them before, but hey- he'd take anything he'd got. Even if it dampened his own Force abilities, Ezra knew that it was safer to stay near the creature than to face anything else the Inquisitor could conjure.

"Am I to be under the impression that you are no longer willing to be taught the ways of the Force?" The Inquisitor's voice was cold, and his eyes never left Ezra. There was something dead about those eyes that chilled him to the bone, though he would never admit it to anyone else.

"Like I said before, Baldy, Mustafar'll look like Hoth before I join you. I'm not so gullible as to get power from the likes of you. Not any more." Ezra's own gaze did not waver, as he stared the Inquisitor down from inside the Ysalimir's small protection.

Ezra had gone over to the Dark. It had seemed, while he was in his cell, that the only remaining path for Ezra to take was revenge for his crew's death... Only now, he wasn't being manipulated. There was no other voice in his head but his own.

For along with the direct control of the Inquisitor having been banished by the Force-shield being generated by the Ysalimir, the small voice that the Inquisitor had planted in his head had been thrown out as well. Ezra could now fully think his own fully formed and fully original thoughts, without any Dark manipulations to whisper suggestions in his ear.

And without that extra voice, without that extra serpent to twist his good intentions, Ezra saw what a fool he had been. Revenge was not the way that Kanan had taught him. He had stayed away from the Dark, had kept Ezra away from the Dark, because that was their role in the Galaxy. Kanan had died staying true to the Light because that had been his path... and it was now Ezra's. Now that his mind was fully free to come to this conclusion, Ezra's regret and guilt were pushed down into the deepest parts of his being. They would have their own time and place to reveal themselves, but now was not that time.

"I see. Pity." The Inquisitor moved over to him, and Ezra hurriedly picked up the Ysalimir from where it lay. A pang of guilt flew through him when he remembered that he had practically bowled the creature down the entirety of the hanger bay... but he had more pressing concerns at the moment than an abused animal. As he extended it, Ezra's left arm began to throb painfully.

Sparing it only a glance before furthering his action, Ezra could have almost cursed. Of course, the one arm that the bucket-heads liked to mangle most was infected, and nastily too. That was just great.

It always had to be that arm.

But Ezra paid no mind to his bodily hurts, as he had been trained to do by the man ruthlessly stalking him down, and held the Ysalimir closely to his body while he pushed his legs away from the Inquisitor.

"I'm afraid that won't do you any good, Bridger." The cruel voice of his enemy floated out from in front of him, and- too late -Ezra saw that the Pau'an had used his own tactic against him. There was a levitating crate almost touching the hangar-bay ceiling, directly above him.

It crashed down on top of him, and the delicate machinery surrounding the Ysalimir he was holding shattered. Luckily, the boxes were empty and hollow, with air being its' only content. Unluckily, it was still a large metal box crashing down on top of him.

He'd managed to roll mostly out of the way, however, so the only injury Ezra himself sustained was a large cut on his thigh, and what he was sure would turn out to be a massive amount of bruising on his left leg. At least it wasn't his arm.

"Surrender, boy. There is no way for you to escape this room, especially now that the creature you were supposed to eliminate is no longer in possession of its' nutrient frame." Ah. That had probably been the mass of tubes and metal attached to the Ysalimir. The frames that had just been smashed off.

"Oh, come on, Baldy, you know me better than that. I don't give up til I'm dead." Along with any stupid path-ways for power, Ezra seemed to be free of any leanings towards the Dark. Well... except for his sorrow, which was threatening to drown him. After all, his crew was dead and gone, and he had betrayed the only teachings that they had left him with.  
But those tears would be shed later, as now they were tampered down by his recently accumulated logic and reasoning. But other than that, Ezra felt... for lack of a better word, _clean_. He wasn't bogged down with thoughts about accumulating power, he wasn't unleashing his fighting skills at the Inquisitor, and he wasn't under anyone's control but his own...

Ezra felt as though a large weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. In fact, he hadn't been this un-burdened since... since the Inquisitor had told him of the Ghost's appearance on Tatooine. Since then, he'd been having a whole lot of Dark, weighing thoughts that brought him to the brink, thoughts that were definitely not his... It seemed the Pau'an had taken the opportunity then that he had created to infiltrate Ezra's mind. Well, whatever had happened, the Ysalimir was negating it, leaving Ezra free to think and calculate without any voice other than his own to do so.

Of course, that Ysalimir was currently dying in his arms.

"Can you feel it, child? Can you feel your only source of protection slowly withering away? But of course you can not. After all, you are, as of yet, not connected to the Force..." Of course, Ezra didn't need to be connected to the Force to feel the Ysalimir's heart-beats slow down.

"No no no, come on little guy..." Desperately, Ezra searched for a way out of the hangar-bay. The doors? No, guards were out there that would sound every alarm on the ship before he took one of them down. Vents? No, they were all too high up. With the dying creature in his arms preventing him from Force-jumping, they would be impossible to reach, and if he got rid of the Ysalimir and jumped, the Inquisitor would just Force-pull him back down to the ground. Ships? No, the bay was completely empty except for the few boxes scattered around.

Ezra was, as the Inquisitor had said, trapped.

And with his only source of protection slowly dying in his arms, there were only a few seconds between now and the Inquisitor reaching him. What would he do when Ezra was finally freed from the influences of the Force-resistant? Most likely, invade his mind once more and return Ezra to the state of 'puppet' that he had been in before. Not a happy thought.

Well then, Ezra would simply have to make sure that the Inquisitor wouldn't be able to gain access to his mind as he had before.

Keeping his visuals on the Pau'an before him, Ezra turned his focus towards his mental shields. As they were a part of his bodily system and not directly influenced by the overall current of the Force, he had no trouble doing so while holding the Ysalimir in his hands. Although, if he was judging the creature's heart-rate right, pretty soon he'd be holding nothing more than a dead corpse...

_No distractions. Focus._

It was so good to have control over his own thoughts once again.

Concentrating probably harder than he'd ever done in his life, Ezra raised his before absent mental shields and strengthened them with everything he had. He put into his shield the teachings that Kanan had told him, the brutality the Inquisitor had hammered into him, and the instincts that he had built up over the years of street-living on Lothal. Thus, when the Ysalimir drew in breath for the last time, Ezra was not immediately taken over by the Inquisitor's ruthless attack on his mind. With a surge of pride, Ezra repelled the Pau'an, taking pleasure in the shock it caused the Dark-user. He added those emotions to his shield.

"It seems you've taken something out of your training, boy."

"Like I said Baldy, I don't give up til I'm dead."

"Fortunately for you, that is a condition that I refuse to land you in, Padawan. However-" With a single Force push, the Inquisitor launched Ezra across the hangar-bay. His concentration slipped slightly as his position was violently altered, but Ezra maintained his barriers. Because of his previous intrusions, the Inquisitor had almost un-limited access to Ezra's mind... unless he kept his mental shields up.

If Ezra could keep his shields up for long enough, his own natural defenses would slowly regenerate, providing an extra layer of defense between his inner workings and the Inquisitor's manipulations. The only reason that he was not once again a gruesome puppet was because of his stupendous efforts to keep his manufactured shields up and running at their peak condition... for now.

The Force was with Ezra, however. Because of the Inquisitor's reluctance to kill him, he did not have to fear death. The only thing he had to live with was pain. Granted, pain was an efficient breaker, but Ezra had already watched his family die. If that wasn't the most painful thing, what was? Honestly, what else could the Inquisitor throw at him?

Apparently, his lightsaber.

Ezra had to leap out of the way of the crimson blade as it whirled towards him, humming menacingly. The Inquisitor didn't want him dead, but he had been training Ezra for that past week, three of those days having unlimited access to the entirety of his mind. Ezra was pretty sure that the Pau'an knew Ezra's limits and skills very well.

"Give up, boy. There is no possible way for you to win in this situation." The lightsaber was back in the Pau'an's hand, illuminating his face eerily. Even though he knew his opponent was quite right, Ezra refused to back down. Kanan would not have wanted Ezra to go back to what he had been before. He would not have wanted Ezra to give up.

"I've already given you my answer, Baldy. And it's not going to change." There was another ram against his mental shields as the Inquisitor once again attacked, trying to catch Ezra off guard, but his defenses were not yet so weak as to allow him entrance. Once again, though, Ezra doubted how long he could last with the Pau'an doing his absolute best to distract him. As he had been so closely attuned to his 'Master's' thoughts, Ezra knew that the Inquisitor was a master of mental manipulation. As he had proven.

"How quaint. It appears that you still harbor some faction of hope. You must know that this is wrongly placed, as there is no outlet for it to take refuge in?"

"I'll always have hope. There's no way you'll take that from me, not again. I won't give up."

The Inquisitor lifted his chin, holding his weapon aloft. "Very well."

Ezra would not know how he pulled through these few minutes in time to come. Even now, as the Inquisitor slashed his deadly blade through the air with the efficiency of a master swordsman while simultaneously making mental attacks on Ezra's defenses, he was very hard pressed to keep himself alive. What made it worse was the knowledge that the Inquisitor was holding back, as it was very much against his interests to kill him. While his sword came perilously close to major bodily pieces, the only orifices in serious danger were his limbs. They were not required for what the Inquisitor had planned for the boy to do, and they both knew it.

So, through the empty hangar-bay the two 'fought,' although the fight consisted of a single weapon and a single attacker. Ezra was just doing his best to keep all of his body parts intact. The most ferocious battle, however, was being raged through the Force. The lightsaber battle was causing both members to leap to and fro, but it was not either's main focus. Only a distraction.

The main focus, the main battle was raging in either member's mind. Well, in Ezra's, at least. The Inquisitor was repeatedly trying to regain access to his mind, while Ezra himself was doing his best to hold off the Pau'an. He'd never before appreciated the skill that it took to keep oneself calm and focused in the middle of a battle.

However, Ezra did have one thing going for him: he knew he was almost near his okay-point. Well, his check-point, anyways. His mental shields were regenerating, albeit slowly. A few more minutes against the Inquisitor, and the ruthless Pau'an would be completely cut off from accessing Ezra's mind. Since they were so close to Kashyyyk, and what the Inquisitor had been hoping an easy fight with Vader, Ezra knew that this would cause the maximum amount of stress and rage for the Inquisitor.

After all, if he showed up at Kashyyyk without any orders to have done so, Vader would be furious with him. And the Inquisitor would be forced to endure his Master's wrath, as he would no longer have the weapon essential to defeat the black robot. Ezra knew beyond a doubt that the Inquisitor would not dare to challenge one of the most feared men in the Galaxy without having a completely faithful tool by his side.

So, not only did Ezra have hope, he had a goal to work towards, to sustain himself with. If he could just hold out, the man that had caused him so much pain would finally receive a taste of his own medicine... revenge was not the way of the Jedi. But that didn't mean Ezra couldn't appreciate it.

"What's wrong, Baldy? Worried about what Vader's gonna do to you when you show up un-authorized?" Ezra taunted, aware that he was playing with fate. But, if it made the Inquisitor's face contort like that, it was worth it.

The Pau'an responded with a quick jab of his lightsaber, deftly giving Ezra a nick on his side. It wasn't as serious as the two other lightsaber wounds he'd inflicted before, but it was enough to make Ezra's concentration flicker. But his defenses were up again before the Inquisitor could take advantage of his lapse.

"On the contrary, boy, I look forwards to wrenching your new found self-control right back out of your hands. And this time, I intend to keep it."

Jumping over another lightsaber swing, Ezra once again blocked a mental assault. "Not if I can help it!" And, in a daring move, Ezra pushed the Inquisitor back a ways with the Force, granting him a moment of reprieve.

Likewise, the Inquisitor launched Ezra so far back his head hit the wall of the hangar bay. Stars swam in front of him, but his shields did not slip. He was determined that they should remain that way.

"_Sir, we are an hour away from orbiting Kashyyyk_." The voice of one of the Imperial officers rang through the hangar bay, and Ezra grinned. "Looks like you don't have very much time, Baldy. Wonder what ol' Vader's gonna say abo-"

Ezra was forced to stop as a crushing force enveloped his throat, restricting his breathing. _Well, this would only be the third time the Inquisitor's treated me to this._

"I am afraid that I do not have time to play games, Bridger." Spots started appearing in Ezra's vision, and his lungs seemed about ready to burst. The Inquisitor lifted his arm up to his mouth and spoke to the communicator on his wrist, no doubt to some Imperial officer somewhere.

"Escort the prisoner to his original cell. Have I-84-B administer its' top-level treatments until I give the order to stop." A soft sound issued out of the comm device, but Ezra was too far away to hear it.

"I don't care about the safety protocols, just do as you're told, officer!" And with that, the doors to the hangar opened, and two stormtroopers came through it. Well, at least he'd be going back to familiar turf. Briefly, Ezra wondered if they'd even bothered to clean out his blood from before. With a jarring thud that sent lances of pain into his legs and torso, Ezra was released from the Force-choke, massaging his throat with vigor.

"If fighting you will not work to break you, then pain will, Bridger. You are mistaken if you believe you'll be able to hold out against the top procedures of the Empire for long." The troopers hooked their arms under Ezra's, and they began to carry him away. Ezra wasn't struggling, he figured that that would only aggravate his wounds further. If he was going to endure Chip's 'top-level treatments' for an hour, he needed to be in prime condition to do so. Well... as prime as he could get in his current condition.

But he just couldn't resist pushing the Inquisitor's buttons even further.

"I don't know Baldy, I'd do just about anything to keep you from defeating your Master. 'Cuz without that one victory, you can't be a Sith." There was no command issued out to the stormtroopers, but they automatically stopped moving Ezra, and one look at the Inquisitor's face told him why. The usually calm and composed Pau'an was looking at Ezra with such contempt, he briefly wondered why he wasn't frozen with fear. But he pushed on, loving the Inquisitor's reactions.

"Oh yeah, I know Baldy. You're not a Sith. You're just some wanna be Dark user, who's too weak to speak for himself without the aid of a 'small child' like me! And now, you'll never be a Sith!" Ezra plastered a smile on his face, looking at the Inquisitor without a care in the Galaxy. After all, he had nothing else to lose.

Rage and hatred burned in the Pau'an's eyes, and Ezra reveled in them. He really shouldn't, but it was such fun.

There was a sickening snap, and intense pain riveted through Ezra's left arm, accompanied by a yelp of pain. Seconds after, his right leg also convulsed into pain, and Ezra hung limply in the stormtroopers arm, unable to crouch up into a ball as he so very much wanted to. The Inquisitor had warped the Force around his left arm and right leg until they had broken.

"Take him away," the Inquisitor spat, yellow eyes boring into Ezra's blue ones. The look on his face had been worth it, but there was still a tiny voice in his head that reminded him: _H__e's the one who controls your fate, you know. Insulting him isn't exactly smart, especially when he can break your bones like that._

_But it's so worth it._

He was dragged down a hallway filled with identical sloped cells, the brig, pain riveting through his broken limbs with every step, nearly rendering Ezra unconscious. The troopers ignored the first few dozen cells, then threw him in one on the left. One glance at the food flap told him that it was the same cell he had been in last time, minus the blood. Apparently they had cleaned it up.

Ezra lay pathetically on the floor for a few moments, before forcing his body into a sitting position. He supposed it was kind of poetic, returning to the very same cell he had started out in just moments before 'the final battle.' Oh, how he would love it when the Inquisitor had to face Vader! Having his plan ruined at the last moment, when they were in an un-changeable path through hyper-space. Ezra knew that Vader had ordered the Inquisitor to stay out of Kashyyyk's system, and would not be happy when the Pau'an disobeyed him.

If anything, that was probably what was going to keep Ezra strong through the eventual and current pain. Just the situation it would place his enemy in.

A ram in his mental shields told Ezra that the Inquisitor was not simply leaving Chip to do the work alone. Throughout the 'session,' the Pau'an would probably be on the constant prowl for any signs of weakness Ezra displayed, and use the opportunity to take control of his mind once more. Only Ezra wasn't going to let that happen.

The doors opened, and Chip rolled in, slowing on the stairs.

"Well well. Haven't seen you in a while, buddy." The droid beeped out a string of code, probably something to the extent that they had never been buddies in the first place. Ezra just smiled as a single appendage rolled out, bearing a syringe filled with some yellow liquid.

This would probably hurt like hell.

But Ezra wouldn't break.

* * *

**YAAAAAY! Ezra's back! And he'll stay that way until he loses focus, but from the determination evident in the chapter, I don't think he will... Whatever the case, I like this chapter rather a lot. The fact that I had to re-write this thing about three times may or may not factor into that like.**

**Again, thank you so much for reading and sticking with me for so long!**


	27. End Game: Part II

**And now, action!**

**Disclaimer: If I had to choose between owning Rebels and a horse, I'd choose Rebels. Point being, I'd have to choose, 'cause I don't already own it.**

* * *

"Okay, okay. So while Zeb and I are running around, you're gonna go and leave us two to our own devices? That's not really like you, Kanan." Sabine had a point, but Kanan shrugged off the Mandalorian's comment.

"I have absolute faith that you two can handle yourselves without me. Especially with the blast-doors on your side again. Hera, you're absolutely sure you'll be able to hack through their systems again?"

The Twi'lek nodded, a firm look on her face.

"With the amount of credits we collected from all those jobs, I was able to purchase an advanced decoder. If Chop's going to be using it as well as his natural skills," the droid bleeped in acknowledgement, "then we should be able to hack and hold the doors for a lot longer."

Kanan raised an eye-brow. "When did you find time to buy a decoder?" Hera gave a sly grin in response. "While you were out cold, dear. We went and delivered the decoder from Hoth to Axle, and since we weren't sure when you'd regain consciousness, we went and stored up on supplies. I also upgraded the shields on the _Ghost_, so we should be able to remain fighting for longer."

Kanan smiled slightly before turning his attention back to the detailed maps and drawings they had on the table usually used for holo-chess. He was glad he could trust his crew to take care of themselves even without him.

For this operation, they had poured in all the knowledge they had about the Empire. What Tseebo had given them, what they'd gathered from their previous ops, Sabine's training in the Imperial Academy, everything. Their last failure had spurred all of them into action.

"Okay. And we all know the basic layout of the ship. Sabine, Zeb, you know what route to take?"

"'Course we do, boss. How could we not? We've hammered it down so many times I think it'd be impossible to forget." Zeb rumbled, pointing to all the lines the team had drawn on the maps of the Imminent Pursuit. Kanan nodded, then turned his attention to Chopper.

"You know how long you can hold the doors this time?" The astromech bleeped indignantly.

"Of course I appreciate how hard it is! That's why I'm asking you instead of Hera!" Chopper grumbled about some more, but assured Kanan that the doors would be theirs unless an emergency happened.

"My question is still how the Imps aren't gonna notice you boarding, Kanan. Flying the _Phantom_ in and opening up an access hatch doesn't exactly speak 'sneaky' to me."

Hera took the question. "Don't worry, Sabine. Along with the decoder, there's also another signal masker on board. We'll install that into the _Phantom_ so they won't register it. I'll be shooting as close to it's landing point as possible, so if there's an alarm attached to the access hatch, they'll just assume I've shot something in that area that triggered off the alarms. Kanan'll be completely under the radar."

Kanan nodded, then pulled out one of the diagrams that'd been buried under the others. "Remember you two, try to go as slow as you can. I'm gonna be hampered by all the different levels and cells, so just wait for my signal to head back to the hangar-bay. I'm gonna need your timing to be pretty precise if I want to get back the same way I got in." Sabine frowned.

"Why not just come back to the hangar with us? It'd increase our numbers and decrease the amount if flying we'd have to do." Kanan shook his head.

"It'll also increase the Inquisitor's panic. If the troopers see me and Ezra retreating along with you two, they're gonna tell him, and he'll rush in to stop us. If they just see you two retreating, that'll either put the Inquisitor to ease or keep him guessing as to what our plan is. If I go back the way I came and remain undetected, it'll buy me the time I need to get us both back to the access point to await pick-up for the _Phantom_." Sabine nodded.

"Okay. Now. If you see the Inquisitor coming for you, and I haven't given the signal, run back to the hangar-bay and close all the blast doors in between you and him. Don't try to fight him, just go straight back to the _Phantom_, fly to the pick-up point, and tell me to hurry up." Zeb's eyes darkened, but the two Spectres nodded in unison, and Kanan breathed a sigh of relief. It wouldn't do to have the Inquisitor kill or capture two more of the crew.

Hera spoke again. "If the battle is to hectic for the _Phantom_ to latch back into the _Ghost_, jump to the planet Togoria. It's the closest to Kashyyyk, and we'll be able to regroup there."

"Got it." Sabine said, looking at the star maps in front of them. Zeb exhaled a deep breath.

"This one better work."

* * *

The view of hyper-space faded away as the _Ghost_ arrived at Kashyyyk. Kanan, Sabine and Zeb were all in the _Phantom_, still attached to the main ship. However, with a few buttons pressed by Sabine, that quickly changed.

They detached, and Sabine piloted the small ship so that it was almost directly under the _Ghost_. The three Spectres inside didn't need to look hard to find the _Imminent Pursuit_, which looked like it had just pulled out of hyper-space maybe a minute before they had. Good. That meant that their business with the planet was not yet finished, and Kanan's plan could actually be put into effect.

The _Ghost_ shot off, Sabine doing her best to keep right below it. There was no time for them to waste slowing down, within seconds Tie fighters would be swarming all around them. Kanan's discreet entry called for a bare minimum of the enemy pilots to see the _Phantom_ landing on the access hatch: though with the code-scrambler Hera had bought for it, the small ship was practically invisible to them anyways. Still. Better to be safe than sorry.

"_We're only going to have a small window of opportunity before your movement's gonna be restricted, Sabine. Drop Kanan off as fast as you can; don't worry about me catching up. I'll still be firing down around you._"

"Copy that, _Ghost_. Wish you luck."

"_You too, Spectre 5_."

Sabine flipped off the communications channel, just like they had agreed upon. Sending out a comm channel to the _Ghost_ only showed off their position, and if they were going about this the sneaky way, that would undermine their plan almost immediately. Sabine was glad that they had all taken the time to plan out their actions weeks before they were necessary. With the entire month of planning they had done, she doubted that there was a weak spot in the entire operation. And if there was, eh. It wasn't like they hadn't improvised before.

Still, though. Sabine's hands were sweating slightly underneath her gloves, and she had no doubt that her Mando helmet was hiding even more sweat on her face. This was the one mission that had to go right. They had failed last time, but they would _not_ do so again.

She was glad that Kanan had had the ability to snap them all out of their reverie. Because he had pulled them out of their self-doubts, all of their teamwork and determination had multiplied by a large factor. If it hadn't been for him, they would probably still be moping, and they wouldn't have been as prepared as they were now.

Because he had given them this extra chance, Sabine truly saw just how fitting Kanan was for the role of leader. The decisions he'd made had really pulled the crew together, whether it was going back for Ezra the first time Kallus had nabbed him, or just plain strategy of their numerous missions. Sabine was glad that she had joined him and his crew, instead of staying with the Empire and fighting against them.

"Your exit point's coming up, Kanan! You ready?!" Zeb called out behind them, leaving Sabine to focus on getting him to the right hatch. She had to admit, this was one of his more brilliant ideas.

If his entrance into the _Imminent Pursuit_ went as plan and he remained undetected, Kanan would be able to use his lightsaber and his knowledge of the ship's interior to cut a direct path down and to the left to Ezra's cell. This way, there would be no mad hallway dashes while running from storm-troopers, instead he'd be able to escort Ezra (no matter how injured he was) back up to the rendezvous point. With Sabine and Zeb serving as a distraction onboard the ship, the troopers and Inquisitor would be focusing their strength and attention on them, leaving Kanan with as much time as he needed to successfully extract Spectre 6.

Sabine just hoped and prayed to whatever would take it that the mission would go as planned.

The little mini-map she had downloaded onto her wrist bracelet flashed red, and Sabine lowered the _Phantom_ down as fast as she could. Right before they crashed into the hull of the ship she stopped, instead coming down to a slow and gentle landing.

Shots from the _Ghost _thudded all around them, and Sabine knew that she had to act. It was now or never.

Her hands flew over the control panels, pressing buttons in a fury, and she was rewarded with the single 'beep!' that told her the access point was opened. Because there was no panel on the floor to slide open for the angle of hatch they were opening, the_ Phantom _was 'parked' vertically, standing up on top of the _Imminent Pursuit_ with the door planted directly on the hull and the hatch. The only reason that they weren't sliding around like crazy was because to the _Phantom_'s artificial gravity, though that would quickly change for Kanan once he accessed the ship.

"Go Kanan! May the Force be with you and whatever else you need!" Sabine yelled, watching the dozens of Tie fighters pour out from the sides of the ship. They had to start flying _now_, or the _Phantom_ would be a sitting duck.

"You too, Sabine, Zeb!" And with a hiss of pressure, the hatch was opened, Kanan jumped through it, landing in a crouched position. Zeb closed the hatch behind him, and Sabine took off, engines roaring.

Now it was simply a matter of making it to the hangar bay through the throng of Ties that had been released. A good twenty or thirty were already chasing down the _Ghost_, while what looked to be slightly less than a dozen Ties were headed for the _Phantom_. Apparently, the Inquisitor had launched all of his Ties at once at their arrival, but the majority of them were focusing on the_ Ghost_. Having their signature masked really did help them, it seemed.

But if they were going to make it to the hangar-bay in one piece, the Ties that were converging on their position would have to be dealt with.

"Hang on Zeb, because things are gonna start looking _really_ interesting soon!"

"Just as long as you don't get us killed, I'm fine with it!"

"I'll try bucko, but don't expect any promises!" And she headed off to meet their oncoming foes.

* * *

"_Copy that,_ Ghost. _Wish__ you luck_."

"You too, Spectre 5." Hera cut off the comm channel with Sabine, giving the _Phantom_ a chance at secrecy. It wouldn't matter in a few seconds, though, as she was pretty sure that the amount of Tie fighters the Inquisitor was going to send after them would physically see Sabine's shuttle in a little bit. Still, Hera was glad she had thought to purchase another code-scrambler to hide the _Phantom_ with, it would allow the three members on board some extra time to drop off Kanan.

She had to admit, Hera didn't take to the plan at first. She had though it far too risky to have Kanan and Zeb and Sabine separated, but after the extensive amounts of planning they had gone through, she had seen it was the only way.

It wasn't as though they hadn't been in danger before.

"Chopper, you just about ready with the blast doors?" She shouted over her shoulders, anxiously watching the _Phantom_'s progress through the cock-pit. When she deemed it close enough, Hera fired out multiple streams of lasers, hitting the landing area of the _Phantom_, the surrounding area, and a long line away from it as the _Ghost_ flew down the length of the _Imminent Pursuit_. To just focus her fire on a single area of the Star Destroyer would almost instantly give them away, so she fired out random shots, trying to take out as many of the turrets she could find as possible.

It wasn't their intent to actually take down the Destroyer, that'd be impossible with just the _Ghost._ But it would still help them to survive the opp if as much as the fire-power of the enemy was taken out before things got too heated.

Some hurried beeping behind her told the Twi'lek that Chopper was successfully into the system, but due to the foreign nature of the decoder, it would take him a few seconds to hack the doors.

"That's fine, Chop, just make sure when Sabine gives the signal you can get them real fast."

More whistles and beeps. Hera grinned. When Chopper was revved up, he could say some really witty things.

"Don't be like that, Chop, you know I love you!" The astromech seemed to sigh, but Hera payed him no mind. When she was focused, Chopper's antics were just back-ground noise. And she was indeed focused. On the thirty Tie fighters heading straight for them.

"And now we see whether or not those shield modifications hold."

From Tseebo's detailed information, they had learned that a Star Destroyer usually held close to forty-eight Ties in their hangar decks. The fact that there were this many going after her told the Twi'lek that the Inquisitor had ordered all of them to go after her ship. She didn't know whether to feel pride that the _Ghost_ was such a threat or fear that she was facing more Ties than ever before on her own. She settled for pride.

"Hold on tight, Chop!"

* * *

Kanan was in.

The change in gravities had been disorienting when he had gone from vertical to horizontal in a matter of seconds, but he had quickly gotten over it. He had landed in an empty hall, with no Stormtroopers to be seen in either direction.  
Closing his eyes, Kanan tried to reach out into the Force: and found it wasn't there.

_Guess I'm still in the range of the Ysalimir. Better change that._

Recalling the dozens of maps he had memorized, Kanan jogged over to a spot some few feet away from the access hatch, which Zeb had closed behind him, and pulled out his lightsaber. Activating the blue blade with the familiar '_hiss_,' Kanan cut a large circle out of the floor, the resounding crash making him jump.

It was risky, cutting the hole without knowing if there were any bucket-heads beneath him, but if Kanan was indeed still in the range of the Ysalimir, there was no way of knowing if anyone was around to hear the crash.

Poking his head out through the hole he had created, Kanan jumped down onto the circle of metal he had cut away when he saw that there were no soldiers in the immediate vicinity. "Nice and quiet-like." And, once Kanan's feet had touched the floor, the most miraculous thing happened:

_He felt Ezra._

His signature was still somewhat muted, and Kanan put two and two together than the Inquisitor still had him injected with Force-inhibitors, but he was so relieved just to feel his Padawan again. However, Kanan quickly muted his own Force presence like his Master had taught him. It wouldn't do to have his sneaky entrance ruined by the Inquisitor sensing his presence as well. Kanan would just have to suffice with the glimpse he had gotten from Ezra, the reassurance that he was still alive.

"_All troopers, report to section C-85-T. Two rebels have infiltrated. Repeat: all troopers report to section C-85-T._" Kanan grinned as the orders were broad-casted over the ship's comm system. Zeb and Sabine had made it to the hangar-bay, and were slowly approaching Ezra's cell. If all went well, they wouldn't actually make it there before Kanan did, instead they'd return to the _Phantom_ when Kanan gave the signal.

They had all decided that it would be too dangerous to actually have an open comm-channel, as that would give away Kanan's location almost instantly, but a single burst of code would suffice. It would signal to the two Spectres that it would be time for their retreat. That'd allow Kanan to make it back to the access hatch with Ezra, and give Sabine enough time to pilot the _Phantom_ to the maintenance hatch he had come in through.

Once again remembering the plans he had memorized and gone over over and over again, Kanan knew that he's have to descend two more floors before he'd be on the same level as Ezra. That would put him on the isolation decks. However, the position he was in now, he would be dropping directly into one of the cells. From there, he could simply cut through the walls of the individual cells until he reached Ezra's, without ever being in the actual hallway of the isolation deck. Unless a soldier came into one of the dozens of cells surrounding his Padawan's, he would never be seen.

Kanan got started.

* * *

**All right! Stuff's going down!**

**Unfortunately, I only have one more pre-written chapter after this one. Beyond that, it's all in my head. But I'll type it out as fast as humanly possible so that I don't leave you guys hangin'.**

**But that's after the next chapter! And I'll get right on that right now!**


	28. End Game: Part III

**Alright. This is a short chapter, for sure, but it has an amazing cliff at the end... I am sorry that the last of the pre-written chapters has a cliff-hangar at the end, but I can't really help that. I am working on the next one right now, though, so it shouldn't be too long in coming. Or something disastrous will happen and it'll come out tomorrow. Either way, I am working on the next chapter, so do not despair!**

**And thank you all again.**

**Disclaimer: If you're reading this, you've fallen into another dimension where I have ownership of Rebels. Just kidding, I don't.**

* * *

It was only the absence of new pain that told Ezra Chip had somehow stopped. Why had Chip stopped?

_I__t__ doesn't matter. Don't lose focus._

Through the utmost amount of work and concentration, Ezra had not broken. His mind was still his to control, even after Chip's extensive procedures. Sure, he couldn't feel a few parts of his body, and he had a feeling the bot had broken a few ribs, but physical wounds he could handle. After all, what mattered most was that he remained his own.

And Ezra could feel that his resistance was infuriating the Inquisitor to no end. He had been enduring repeated assaults on his mind from the ruthless Pau'an during the torture session, and with each successful repel, Ezra could feel the Inquisitor's patience wearing thin. Whether that was good for him or not, Ezra didn't know. And he didn't particularly care, either.

There was a slight tremor in the floor.

_Huh. Maybe they've upgraded the serums to cause body-like hallucinations. Cool._

As much as he hurt, all over, Ezra refused to look down on himself, to coddle himself. That would just bring down his mental shields, and it would all be over. Just one slip, and all that Kanan had taught him would go to waste through the Inquisitor's meddling.

Though that should have discouraged him, or made him nervous, Ezra actually enjoyed having the stakes so high. He always was fond of taking risks, of doing the un-expected. Surviving the Inquisitor and Chip's forced combined would mean that he had done the ultimate bone-headed thing to do, and that was exactly what Ezra Bridger did. Bone-headed stuff. Hadn't Zeb always said that?

Now, with Chip having stopped his procedure, a small sense of victory erupted in Ezra's chest. Had he done it? Was Vader punishing the Inquisitor for coming to Kashyyyk against his orders?

Intense pain in his head as the Pau'an once again rammed into his mental shields denied his hopes. He was desperate, Ezra could feel that. He was running out of time, and he was... afraid? Well. That could only mean one thing.

They had arrived at Kashyyyk, and Ezra still had not been broken. He had gone through an hour of everything Chip could throw at him _and_ repeated attacks on his sanity from the Inquisitor, but he had not broken. If that wasn't breaking a record of some-sort, Ezra didn't know what was.

_Don't lose focus. The battle's almost over. Don't lose it at the end._

Ezra didn't know why Chip had stopped. Well, he wasn't exactly sure if Chip _had _stopped. After all, the 'highest level' of treatment Chip could give had included some nasty procedures on the nervous systems. Ezra was seeing, but his focus on what exactly he saw or heard was distorted, as though he was viewing what happened around him through a haze on a delayed screen.

He wasn't even sure if Chip had left the room or not. And he couldn't be bothered to check. Checking meant moving. Moving meant pain. Pain cause distractions, which would cause him to lose the battle with the Inquisitor, and once again become a puppet for the Pau'an.

Still, though. He was doing pretty well. Ezra was proud in himself for resisting this much, for so long, especially with throbbing broken bones. He'd never been the best student, but he felt it would have made Kanan proud to see how his student had applied and used what he had taught him.

There was a low buzzing, and Ezra once again doubted that Chip had actually left the room. He was probably just getting another operation ready, and this time it sounded like he was bringing electricity back into the mix. Well, that was just great. Chip could do whatever he wanted, the Inquisitor didn't have much time and he knew it. Soon, Ezra was either going to die or the Inquisitor was.

He honestly didn't care which came first.

A huge 'thud' echoed through the small room, reverberating off the walls and vibrating the ground underneath him slightly. Okay... maybe not electricity? There was a soft sound, like someone drawing in breath, but it was so quiet and distorted that he could have imagined it. Well, in his current state he probably had.

There was a light pressure on his left shoulder, one that shouldn't have hurt at all, but still felt like thousands of little tiny knives. He was rolled over onto his back, where he stayed for a few seconds, staring at whatever was above him.

Through his haze of non-receptance, it took Ezra a few seconds to register what had happened. Then, his mental shields dropped completely. Well, how could they not? He had lost all concentration.

After all, Kanan Jarrus was crouching over him.

* * *

**Kanan! And Ezra! cliff-hangar...**

**Again, sorry, but it's just the way that things worked out. Hopefully though, the delay between this one and the next chapter is nothing more than a few minutes long. Peace!**


	29. End Game: Part IV

**Alright! Not too big of a delay in updates, I think I was only a few minutes behind schedule than I normally am. Hope it stays that way too!**

**I can't believe it... I've gone up to twenty-nine chapters and still haven't had one in Zeb's view... wow. Now I feel bad for Zeb. But I've given him his own segment here, so I hope that makes up for it!**

**Disclaimer: Star Wars: Rebels, sadly, is not in the possession of a certain teenager girl glued to her laptop.**

* * *

Kanan was four cells away when he heard the first scream.

It mirrored the one they had heard on the Empire's broadcast almost exactly, the sheer pain and hurt communicated through it, without a sense of dignity or pride. Kanan stopped masking his Force presence out of sheer horror and anger, but he had instead channeled those emotions into cutting holes faster into the sides of the cell doors.

The plan had gone off without a hitch, with Kanan successfully getting into the isolation deck and through a good portion of the cells without detection. Now, it was all up to whether or not whatever was making his Padawan scream like that had a communicator on him.

He was one two cells away now, but Kanan couldn't stand hearing Ezra scream like that. For a brief second he lowered his barriers, delving into the Force, and before you could say 'Jedi' had dismantled the droid that was causing his apprentice such agony.

Then, as quickly as he had dropped them, Kanan once again raised his mental masking presence. He was so close now, it would be disastrous to alert the Inquisitor to his presence. He made quick work of the wall separating him and his Padawan, letting it fall in his haste, to slam down onto the floor before him. What it revealed made Kanan suck in his breath.

Ezra was lying on his right side, facing away from him, in a pool of his own blood. His pilot's suit was ripped and shredded with dozens- hundreds -of cuts, which all looked in on some sort of scar or scab, either open and oozing or closed and shiny. His right leg stuck out at an odd angle, as well as his left arm. From what Kanan could see, he was at least ten pounds lighter than when they had attempted their previous rescue, and the exposed skin that showed through the rips and tears of his clothes was stretched tight. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the last four weeks hadn't been good for him.

Kanan deactivated his lightsaber, clipping it onto his belt, and knelt down closer to his apprentice. Gently, as lightly as he could, Kanan placed his hand on Ezra's right shoulder and turned him over so that he was on his back. He cringed when he saw that even his subdued touch caused him pain.

For a few moments, Ezra stared up at Kanan with un-knowing eyes, giving the Jedi a heart-attack. But then they focused in and found his face. As they did, the blue eyes that he had so missed widened up to the size of saucer-plates, and his mouth gaped like a fish. Kanan couldn't help it. His face completely broke down, all the tension draining out as he smiled tiredly at his apprentice. Everything was going to be okay now.

"Hey ther-"

"But, you're dead..."

The three words uttered from the boy in front of him confused Kanan to no end. He stood there, staring into Ezra's eyes, completely word-less and caught off-guard. Whatever he had been expecting for Ezra's first words of reunion, those hadn't been them.

"What are you talking about? I'm right here, Ezra!" But Ezra was shaking his head, eye still locked with Kanan's. But they weren't open with hope or relief. Kanan saw that Ezra was scared out of his wits. But **_why_**?

"Ezra, I'm-" Ezra's eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell against Kanan's arms, limp. Now Kanan was afraid, that something horribly wrong had happened. "Ezra! EZRA!" But the teen would not stir. After hurriedly pressing his ear onto the boy's chest, Kanan determined that yes, he was still alive. No, he was not conscious.

An explosion from outside reminded Kanan that he did not, in fact, have all day.

Gritting his teeth knowing how much this would hurt his Padawan, Kanan hoisted the un-conscious boy from the floor onto his shoulder. It scared him that Ezra felt lighter than a large sack of Corellian potatoes. He really had lost weight. Reaching for his communicator, Kanan pressed two buttons. The signal was sent to Zeb and Sabine, who he hoped were faring well, and then he was off.

Without the hindrance of cutting out a large circle of metal every few feet, Kanan moved relatively quickly through the mutilated row of cells he had created, ducking slightly so that Ezra's head wouldn't scrape on the edges.

They had to get out of there fast, so that Ezra could be cared for, and they could find out exactly why he had though Kanan had been deceased.

* * *

Zeb released another shot from his bo-rifle, and a trooper fell down.

It had been almost ten minutes since they had dropped Kanan off at the access hatch. Since then, they had destroyed nearly ten Ties and one of the ship's onboard turrets, destroyed any troopers in a hangar-bay, landed in said hangar-bay, and ran through about a dozen hallways onboard the _Imminent Pursuit._ Under normal circumstances, Zeb would have been having the best time of his life.

Unfortunately, these were not normal circumstances.

Kanan was not there with them, cutting down their fire-power by one third. Well, one fourth if you considered the fact that he had a lightsaber as well. Anyways, it was just him and Sabine against the seemingly endless forces of the _Imminent Pursuit_. While it was not their goal to actually make it to the isolation decks like last time, it did frustrate the Lasat that they were advancing slower than a Bantha in quick-mud.

Of course, without Sabine's ingenious use of the blast-doors, they'd most probably be dead. They hadn't sealed off all the entrances around them as they had last time, instead they had just sealed the side-paths that they had skipped over as they went, leaving their entire front open for more soldiers to come out of. Because the paths in front of them weren't sealed off, it allowed more storm-troopers to pour through, effectively making their slowed progress seemingly natural to anyone observing. If the halls they had skipped would still be open, they'd have been pinned down from in front and behind, leaving them deader than a squished jogan.

Sabine herself was fighting harder than Zeb had ever seen her, gaining respect in the seasoned Lasat's eyes. She was felling bucket-head after bucket-head, in a fury almost matching Zeb's own. It seemed when her family was at stake, she'd stop at nothing to fix it.

Of course, Zeb also fighting for more than the mission. His little buddy- no, little _brother_ was at stake. If they didn't hold out, Kanan wouldn't be able to extract him from the _Imminent Pursuit_, and then both Spectres 6 and 1 would be stuck on the ship. Like Zeb had told Kanan before, he wasn't going to play leader anytime soon.

And so, Zeb fought harder than he had ever done in any mission on any ship. There was more than just a life on the line, after all. Their entire way of life was at risk.

"Zeb!" The Lasat turned his head to Sabine just in time to see her throw one of her 'miracles' into the fray, adding a pink explosion to the mix. Then she un-hooked her communicator and waved it in his direction. "He sent the signal! He's got him!"

"It's about time, too!" And with elation running its' course through him, Zeb quickly felled three stormtroopers in a row. "Let's get offa this rust-bucket!"

Still firing off rounds at the bucket-heads in front of them, Zeb and Sabine slowly retreated back towards the way they had come from, towards the empty hangar-bay they had left the _Phantom_ docked in.

However, just before they could turn the corner, the one man Zeb suspected he hated most in the universe- excepting the Inquisitor, for what he had done to Ezra -stepped into his line of face. With a sneer on his face, Agent Kallus joined his men, adding more bullets into the fray. Hatred boiled in Zeb, and he found he had taken a few steps towards him without him knowing it.

"Zeb, no! Zeb we hav-" Sabine was cut off because she saw what Zeb saw at the end of the long hallway, behind all of the bucket-heads: a large grey blur, rushing past the edge of the hall at speeds so high, if Zeb had blinked he was sure he would have missed it.

_Was that the Inquisitor?!_

Fear blossomed in Zeb's stomach, but only briefly. He was, after all, a part of the Honor Guard of Lasat. But he was not afraid for himself; that or he refused to acknowledge that he was. But he was mostly afraid for Kanan and Ezra. If that _had_ been the Inquisitor, and not just some apparition, then he was heading in the direction of the isolation decks. Towards Kanan. At what looked like incredibly fast speeds.

Zeb had little to no understanding of the Force. He just trusted Kanan and Ezra to take care of their mumbo-jumbo stuff, while he went to bash in trooper's heads. He knew they could move around objects, and people when they really wanted to, but he had never seen Kanan use the Force to make himself run as fast as a small speeder. Nor had he known it was a possibility for him to.

Whatever the case, they had to hurry. Kanan and Ezra might not have a lot of time.

"Just you wait, Kallus! One day you're gonna end up slime under my feet!"

"I highly doubt that, monkey-man, if all you're going to do when you see me is run away!" Zeb fired a shot that almost hit Kallus square in the face in retaliation, but did not pause to let the ISB Agent get to him. Ezra was more important than this sleezo. By a factor of ten, in Zeb's books.

"C'mon Sabine, let's go!"

"That's what I just said we had to do!" She yelled back in an exasperated tone.

"Well, now it's official! We gotta go and get Kanan!"

"Believe me Zeb, I wasn't thinking of anything else."

And the two Spectres full out ran back towards the hangar-bay, Sabine throwing miracle after bomb over her shoulder to discourage any bucket-heads from pursuing them too soon. Zeb smirked at the thought of the entire hallway covered in bright paint.

And they charged back to the _Phantom_, both members praying that they'd be able to get to Kanan before the Inquisitor did.

* * *

**Alright! Another chapter over and done! And this time, it's not even that big of a cliff-hanger!**

**As for the super-uber-fast-Force thingy, I read about it one of the Star Wars books, Darth Plagueis. There was a scene where he was running across a planet at super-speeds... and I just assumed that he was doing so with the power of the Force. So now the Inquisitor can run like that too!**

**But why is he running so fast? Well... that's for next chapter, isn't it?**


	30. End Game: Part V

**Alright, next chapter. Man, listening to Star Wars music while you type is freaking epic... and it helps to motivate the fingers to move faster. Anything to deliver chapters faster! Man, I love weekends...**

**Disclaimer: Star Wars Rebels is not mine. Itisnotmine. IT ISN'T MINE. Okay?**

* * *

"_Sir! It's the rebels again!_"

The Inquisitor's eyes snapped open, and he momentarily forgot to continue probing Bridger for weakness. The rebels? Here? How?

"How did they find us?!"

"_I don't know, sir! We came out of hyper-space and then they were... there!_" The Inquisitor snarled. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to have broken the child, to have his tool, to have his fight with Vader. Instead, the boy had pulled out hope from some corner of his soul that the Inquisitor had failed to crush, was no longer willing to be his apprentice, and now the rebels were here to ruin everything else.

"Launch all Tie-fighters, have them converge on the rebel ship. Fire all of the _Imminent Pursuit_'s turrets. Do whatever it takes, but destroy that ship!"

"_Yes, sir!_" And the officer signed out of the communications array, leaving the Pau'an alone to stew. Almost the instant he had left, a tremor shook the ship.

_Damn the rouge! Damn his ship! This isn't how it's supposed to work!_

The Inquisitor strode out of his quarters, long legs allowing him to maintain a brisk pace towards the bridge. There was ample security around Bridger, he could afford to leave the child alone for a few moments. In the meantime, he had business on the bridge of his ship.

Simply to let the child know that he was not in any way giving him a break, the Inquisitor rammed against Bridger's mental shields, only to be repelled once more. He had rarely encountered a being that could hold off his attacks, and the few that had were full Jedi that had escaped the purge... just another example of what a juicy prize the child had turned out to be. One that the Inquisitor would keep to himself at all costs.

The officers were scrambling around, shouting out commands and reports to one another when he arrived. They had been trained that any command given by the Inquisitor was to be met with absolute compliance, and had to yield acceptable results... or they'd suffer his wrath.

"Report. What is the situation?"

An officer on the main deck strode up to him, saluting, before answering his question: "Sir! The rebel's ship was apparently waiting for us near the planet Kashyyyk, sir. As soon as we exited hyper-space they commenced attack, and the main ship is now being pursued by most of the Tie forces sent out to engage it."

"What of the others?"

"They were pursuing the smaller vessel, the one registered as the _Phantom_, before they were destroyed by said ship."

"Where is it now?"

"We believe it has docked in hangar-bay eleven port side, sir."

"Order all troopers to converge on their location. I do not want them getting anywhere close to the isolation decks, officer."

"Sir, yes sir!"

"And use everything we have to take down the rebel's main ship, and the _Phantom_ when it exits the hangar-bay."

"Of course, sir!"

The Inquisitor strode out of the main deck, heading towards hangar-bay eleven. This time, he would take every precaution. He wouldn't even allow the Jedi and his friends anywhere near Bridger, if it meant he had to eliminate them himself.

_How_ the rebels had gotten wind of their location the Inquisitor had no idea... he had seen to it that false trails be planted leading towards Mon Calamari and Dantooine, to keep them busy, so why had they known he would show up at Kashyyyk? That hadn't even been entered into the _Imminent Pursuit_'s logs, the information wasn't recorded on any digital device! How had the blasted rebels known to come here?!

No matter now. They were here, and if all went smoothly, they would die here. At the very least they would escape with their lives. No matter what, though, they would not leave with Bridger. That was not acceptable. It was not going to happen. He wouldn't let it.

The Inquisitor picked up his pace, briskly almost-jogging down the halls. He wasn't that far from them now... and sure enough the sounds of battle could be picked up through the Pau'an's sensitive ears. Strange, though, he could not hear the sounds of a lightsaber...

That was when he felt it. The Inquisitor felt Bridger's mental shields collapse completely, for whatever reason. Coming to a dead stop, the Inquisitor closed his eyes in the middle of the hallway, focusing on entering Bridger's mind once more. Then, all he would have to do was close off his self-awareness once again, and he would once more be-

The Jedi was in his cell.

He had no idea how, or why or when, but the Inquisitor saw through the boy's mind confusion and fear at the appearance of someone he had thought dead. But the Inquisitor could learn nothing more about the Jedi's appearance, as the boy promptly fainted at the sensation of having his mind once again taken over. Typical human weakness.

So, the Rebels that had infiltrated with the _Phantom_ were merely a distraction to keep him focused elsewhere than the isolation deck... the Pau'an put all questions of how to the side and focused instead on connecting to the Force. Going deep within it, he focused on the ebb in the ever-flowing current that was himself. And, with a speed that any life-form would say was impossible for a living organism to achieve, the Inquisitor set off at a dead-sprint down the hall.

As the sounds of battle faded from his range of hearing, he payed them no mind. The stormtroopers could deal with the two rebels. He had to stop the Jedi from escaping the same way he had gotten in. His time was running out. Soon, everything that he had built up onto now would fall-apart- and if that happened, he would have no defense from Vader's wrath.

* * *

Sabine shot out of the hangar-bay as fast as was physically possible in the _Phantom_, heading for the open space around them. She quickly flipped the ship around to fly over the top of the _Imminent Pursuit_, hunting for the access hatch that they had dropped Kanan off in. She wasn't sure if the Jedi was at the rendezvous point yet, but she could bet her paint collection that she'd be there for him.

And Ezra. She'd be there to collect both of them.

Sabine's hands pressed a single button on the dash, sending out a spurt of code to Hera in the _Ghost_. Now that they were out of the _Imminent Pursuit_, they didn't need to keep the blast-doors anymore. With that task over-with, Chopper could take his place at one of the gunning stations and give Hera another cannon to fight with.

It only took a single glance for her to see that the _Ghost_ was still as active as ever, weaving in and out of blaster fire like it was all a show, firing back her own deadly lasers. Sabine was glad to see that the number of Ties chasing her had diminished, if only by a few ships. Among the green blasts that shot from the Ties following her were shots from the _Imminent Pursuit_'s own special turrets; but they were designed to fire at much bigger ships, not the agile little _Ghost_. Sabine doubted if a single shot would ever hit the ship.

With the_ Phantom_'s signature hider activated, the Ties wouldn't know the _Phantom_ was there unless their pilots physically looked out of their ship's window and saw them. As focused as they were on trying to get a shot in on the _Ghost_, Sabine doubted they'd see a ship the size of theirs flying around a ship the same color as the one behind it.

Still, though, she kept an eye on any rouge fighters that broke away from the main battle as she flew to the pick-up point. If anyone of them saw her while they were waiting for Kanan to board, they'd be sitting ducks waiting to be picked off.

"D'you reckon that was the Inquisitor that rushed past?"

"I don't know Zeb, but I sure hope it wasn't. At the speed he was going, he'd reach Kanan and Ezra in no time."

"Well, we better hope no time's enough time for them, because look what your scanners are picking up." Sabine gave a brief look towards the _Phantom_'s scanners, and immediately located what Zeb was talking about.

As she did, she nearly fell out of the pilot's chair.

* * *

A single line of code flashed across one of the many panels of the _Ghost_, and Hera only gave it a single glance towards it before shouting out to the droid behind her: "You can let go of the doors, Chop! I need you at the aft gunner's station pronto!"

A few beeps and whistles.

"Come on, don't tell me you're getting fond of hacking Imperial data-bases, Chop! I _need_ you at those guns!" Chopper grumbled about where else she could stick the guns, but he was already moving at the fasted speed he could urge his wheels.

Talking foul-mouthedly was his way of dealing with stress, Hera had told herself long ago. She had used that belief to prevent herself from dismantling the astromech after a battle. Beyond that though, Hera's entire focus was on the Ties swarming around her precious _Ghost_, trying to hit it with everything they had.

The shield improvements had worked absolute _wonders,_ Hera didn't doubt they might have doubled their strength. Whatever the case was, the _Ghost_ was holding out against the shots of the Ties that managed to hit it, and she simply flew away from the rest. The added danger of the _Imminent Pursuit_'s main cannons she just looked at as a challenge. And Hera was nothing if not a challenge-taker.

A secondary tone of fire told her that Chopper had taken his position at the gunner's turret, and a resulting explosion that their enemies had decreased by one. Make that two.

It didn't really matter, though, there were still so many. Having Sabine take on a few in the _Phantom_ early on had been a life-saver, as it had allowed Hera to thin their ranks before the main fighting had begun. However, when the two forces had collided with one another, it had been all out hectic. Shots had flown everywhere, some ricocheting back down to the _Imminent Pursuit_, which was absolutely fine with her.

The over-head comm came on, and Chopper beeped worriedly through it.

"Yes, of course I keep an eye on the sensors?! Why would I-" As Hera actually examined the _Ghost'_s sensors, she almost crashed into a Tie fighter in front of her.

Behind one of the moons of Kashyyyk had emerged the largest Star Destroyer she had ever seen, almost 20,000 meters long.

Without a doubt, Darth Vader's _Executor_ had been on the other side of the planet, and had now joined the fight.

* * *

**Yup. I did it. I had Vader's ship enter the fray... and left off with another cliff-hanger. I might be able to post one more chapter before I am forced to sleep... if not, rest easy with the knowledge that I will post again in the morning. Believe it or not, I'm just about as anxious as you are right now!**

**Again... thank you all for the support and reviews. It really warms my heart. :)**


	31. End Game: Part VI

**Alright! The next chapter is out!**

**Again, I just want to thank all of you for your support and reviews. They really mean the world to me, and I can't thank you all enough.**

**Disclaimer: Star Wars: Rebels is not anywhere in the vicinity of my owning.**

* * *

Kanan was almost out of the _Imminent Pursuit_. All he needed to do was jump up and out through the several holes he had cut through to get down to the appropriate levels. This wouldn't have been a problem if Ezra hadn't been slung over his shoulders.

He shouldn't have expected anything less. Since their last attempted rescue, four weeks had gone by. And before that, it had been three more. Ezra had been in enemy hands for seven weeks. Forty-nine days. Anyone in custody of the Imperials for that long would be in no better condition than Ezra was in now. Why hadn't they thought of the fact that he might be unconscious? It made navigation _just_ slightly more difficult, and if he ran into any trouble, fighting would be nigh on impossible.

But Kanan didn't dare try to wake Ezra.

It didn't have anything to do with his health; though Kanan was sure that his Padawan would benefit from sleeping as much as he could. Mostly though, Kanan was afraid for Ezra's mental workings.

He had though Kanan was dead. He had been afraid when Kanan had entered the room, because he had though he was dead. It stood to reason, if Kanan woke him here and tried to explain that he wasn't dead while in the middle of enemy territory, he'd most likely just waste a bunch of time and miss the rendezvous with Zeb and Sabine.

No, leaving Ezra to sleep whatever the Imps had done to him out of his system was probably the best course of action Kanan could take. In the meantime, he had to get them both safely to the access hatch before the Inquisitor though to check up on Ezra.

He hadn't been too discreet as to what path he'd taken to get to the isolation decks. Any Imperial, Force-sensitive or not, would be able to clearly see the rows upon rows of holes he'd cut inside their cells, which led straight to where he was now. The only thing was, pretty soon they wouldn't be able to see Kanan. After all, after jumping up the multiple layers of ship he had cut through, the stormtroopers wouldn't be able to follow him.

Hopping through the first hole, Kanan made sure that Ezra wasn't being hit by any of the edges. A concussion wouldn't be the best to help whatever he had been through.

He only had one more floor to jump through when Kanan felt him: the Inquisitor. He was moving at speeds Kanan would have though impossible, rapidly converging on his location. Well. Now that his cover was blown, he desperately hoped that Sabine would be at the hatch in time. A fight with the Inquisitor while towing an unconscious human male would only end in tears.

Kanan leaped through the final hole, arriving at the level just below the hull of the _Imminent Pursuit_. He almost fell right back down it when he entered the Ysalimir's range of Force-repellence; he had almost forgotten they were there. No matter. The little creatures would help keep the Inquisitor out of the range of Ezra, and buy Kanan a few more seconds of time.

Though, at the speed the Inquisitor was approaching them, Kanan doubted that a few seconds would matter much.

However, as he did so, Ezra gave a little gasp from on Kanan's shoulder. It wasn't pain; well, not that he doubted he was in pain anyways, but just a small reaction to being cut of from the Force. He was still very much unconscious, however. It was then that Kanan spared a though to exactly what the Inquisitor could have done mentally to his Padawan. With the amount of skill that the Pau'an possessed, quite a lot. Yet another reason that he had to get Ezra out of there now.

Kanan jogged over to the computer terminal set inside the wall beside the access hatch, which would tell him whether or not there was a pressurized environment on the outside of the seal; a.k.a, if Sabine was there with the _Phantom_ or not.

The multitudes of red lights showed she wasn't. Kanan sucked in a tense breath, aware that if the Mandalorian wasn't there within a few seconds... well. Whether or not Ezra was asleep would be the least on his list of worries, which was growing.

Every moment that the _Phantom_ wasn't docked was a moment where meters were devoured by the Pau'an racing towards them. Pretty soon Kanan was going to have to draw his weapon and hope for a head start on the Pau'an. "Come on, Sabine..."

He heard thundering footsteps from down the hallway. They were literally underneath him; the Inquisitor was one floor below Kanan, and the Jedi doubted he wouldn't notice the gaping hole that lead directly to where he was. Sure enough, a black streak shot out of the hole and further down the hall before losing the power of the Force that propelled him. The Ysalimir had turned out to be just as helpful to the Inquisitor in keeping Ezra onboard as to keeping him away.

The two locked eyes.

For a few seconds absolutely nothing happened, other than the two life-forms staring at one another. Kanan; showing he would protect Ezra at all costs. The Inquisitor; showing his absolute hatred for the man in front of him. Neither said anything: words weren't adequate to convey the amount of emotion held within each of them.

Then Kanan did the only sensible thing and drew his blaster.

He'd fired off a few rounds before the Inquisitor had even taken out his lightsaber, when he'd then deflected two of the five bolts heading in his direction. Both of the Force users were at a dis-advantage; fighting so close to the Ysalimir. While lightsaber use and combat was not entirely controlled through the Force, the main reason why a Jedi or Sith were able to fight one another with seemingly impossible reflexes and reaction times was because both were connected with the Force. It was the reason that they were able to fight, and to position their lightsaber in the best possible position to deflect energy bolts from blaster.

Therefore, without the Force, a Jedi or Sith was really just a man or woman swinging around a laser-sword with above average reflexes.

Kanan pressed the Inquisitor's disadvantage as far as he could, firing bolt after bolt of energy towards the Pau'an, who managed to dodge those that he could not deflect. Those he could, however, he sent straight back at Kanan, using _his_ own obstruction from the Force to make the reflective bolts as much as a problem for Kanan as they were for the Inquisitor.

He could draw his lightsaber, but that would mean putting away the blaster, which would only invite the Inquisitor closer. And Kanan refused to drop Ezra to have both out at the same time.

"What's the matter, Jedi, caught in a rat-trap?" The Inquisitor taunted, prompting Kanan to increase his rate of firing.

"I don't think caught is the right word, bucko. But I'll agree with you that this is a rat-trap."

"Come now, I'd assume that someone such as yourself would have just a tad more manners than that..."

"Sorry. I don't do manners to people who hurt my crew."

"Well then, I guess I'll have to play the role of the civilized one." And the Inquisitor ran forward, dodging all the shots Kanan sent out at him. Well, it was time to get his lightsaber out.

Fighting in close combat would be awkward, no doubt. After all, with his left arm keeping Ezra steady on his shoulder, Kanan was fighting single-handedly. And with the Inquisitor's double blade, that would cause for a one-sided fight. It would be the most Kanan could do to simply stop him or Ezra from sustaining any injuries in combat. With his separation from the Force this would be harder than ever, though Kanan took some comfort in the fact that his opponent also was without his main source of power.

The two blades clashed, and the two men held their ground. Neither was prepared to lose this one fight.

"Surely even you see that you cannot possibly hope to win this battle, Jedi. You are trapped on my ship, with my men approaching our position even now." Kanan laughed and parried the crimson lightsaber away from the both of them. They traded a few more blows, Kanan doing his best to avoid contact with the red blade and Ezra's legs.

"I doubt they'll be coming any time soon, though. At the speeds you were running, you didn't even call for help, did you?" The Inquisitor's eyes narrowed, but what Kanan had said was true. His bluffs would not cause the Jedi to lose hope, not for a single moment. They continued fighting, trading blows with every word, even through their lack of the Force.

"Soldiers aside, you are still trapped, and are severely disadvantaged in this fight. Is one boy really worth your life?"

"One boy? No. Ezra? A thousand times over, yes."

"My my, I though such attachment to others was forbidden by the Jedi... though you would have been too young for that, wouldn't you?"

"Attachment isn't a bad thing if you can control it."

"Then the question remains: can you control yours to this child? It seems to me that you're putting an awful lot of risk into this single operation..."

"That's none of your concern."

"I think it is a great deal of concern to me. After all, the health of Bridger is _very_ much so in my interests." Kanan narrowed his eyes. The Inquisitor was trying to make Kanan mad, to try and unbalance him to win the fight. He was a skilled opponent, especially in the regards that he was smart enough to understand and manipulate the mental workings of others. Such a skill was rare, and Kanan could instantly see why Vader had chosen the Pau'an to be his Jedi hunter.

Two beeps came off of his communicator, momentarily distracting Kanan. Further communication from the _Phantom_ or the _Ghost_ had not been expected, or part of the plan. To have contact from both could mean only one thing: something had happened outside of the _Imminent Pursuit_ that had not been in the plan.

An emergency was occurring right outside the hull of the ship. And if they were all going to escape, Kanan had to finish this. Fast.

"What's the matter, Jedi? Has your pitiful crew discovered they are no match for my ship? Have they abandoned hope in you, as they should have long ago?"

"You don't know my crew. I doubt they'd back off even if your ship had twice the strength it did now."

"Then they are fools, and they will die. Do you know what was stationed behind one of the moons of Kashyyyk?"

Kanan blinked at the Inquisitor, and nearly lost a leg for taking his focus off of the battle.

"I'll take that as a no."

"Whatever it is, you're not going to take Ezra back. Nothing will stop that!"

"Nothing?" The Inquisitor had a slight grin on his face, which Kanan didn't like in the least. "Not even the _Executor_?"

Karabast.

Kanan paled. That was the emergency. Hera and Sabine had both seen the massive ship, and had broadcasted to him the emergency signal to tell him. Their time was indeed limited, if not completely gone.

During their research, the crew's main focus had been on the _Imminent Pursuit_. But Kanan had taken a look at the _Executor_, Vader's flagship, and knew enough that it would make quick work of the _Ghost, _and just about any other vehicle that opposed it. Equipped with over 5,000 cannons and 150 Ties of various model, not only could it hold it's own against the _Imminent Pursuit_ without breaking a sweat, Kanan had no doubt it could probably take on and eliminate an entire fleet of Star Destroyers.

They had negative time to get away if they wanted to survive.

* * *

"Come on Sabine, get to it..." Hera bit her lip almost hard enough to draw blood. The _Executor_, while she didn't know its exact stats, was big enough to wipe them out of the galaxy. A million times over.

Chopper's squeals over the intercomm told Hera that Ties were streaming out of the Star Dreadnaught, seemingly non-stop. She had no doubt that Vader was keeping the entire bulk of his forces inside the ship, not as hasty as the Inquisitor to deploy all of his forces at once. Still, the dozens of Ties streaming out of the vessel were enough to prove that Hera was in deeper trouble than ever before.

The reenforced shields were down to half strength from the barrage of Ties, and now that the enemy force had more than doubled, she knew that there was no chance of _winning_ this battle. She just had to hope that Sabine and Kanan could move fast enough so that they could make their escape before they died.

"Holy stars above-" The Ties streaming out of the _Executor_ were not approaching randomly. They were filing out in formation, approaching the _Ghost_ and _Imminent Pursuit_ in six teams of five, arrayed like arrow shapes. These were not just random pilots randomly flying around randomly shooting. These were the elite, under command of Darth Vader himself. They were experienced in destruction, and Hera had no doubt that even with her superb flying skills, she would be no match for them.

And then Hera remembered: the _Executor_ was equipped with at least forty tractor beams. If the main ship got in close enough range, they would be towed in like a fish on a line, where Vader would either kill them outright or extract information about the Rebellion from them. So not only did Hera have to worry about the mass of trained and experienced pilots heading straight for her, but also to stay out of range of the _Executor_'s range as well.

Just great.

_Sabine, if you don't get Kanan and Ezra out of there, you won't have a ship left to fly home to_.

Chopper beeped and whistled something much to the same extent, only three times as vulgar. Hera felt like joining him, but all of her focus had to be spent on the absolute mass of enemies swirling around her and towards her.

If they survived this, Hera had no doubt she'd be cleaning up the _Ghost_ for months afterwards.

* * *

"Sabine, what are you doing?!" Zeb growled, anxiety making him louder than usual. "Come on! Hera needs us to pick up Kanan **_now_!**"

"I know, I know! I just... well, to be honest I wasn't expecting a ship a thousand times bigger than us to come and fight us!"

"Then let's not let it fight us, and just get **_outa_ **here!"

"Working on it!"

And the Mandalorian swung the _Phantom_ so violently to the side that the artificial gravity took a moment to catch up, flinging Zeb across to the ship's left side. If he'd though she'd done it on purpose there would have been some more talking to do, but Zeb was so focused on the dozens of Ties streaming out of the _Executor_ that he didn't have a single thing to say.

And what was worse, they were flying in formation.

The pit of worry in the Lasat's stomach grew by tenfold. They _really_ didn't have time to waste, if anything they barely had time to get Kanan out of the _Imminent Pursuit_. The appearance of another ship hadn't even been considered into their plans.

Well. Hera was going to have to hold out as long as she could, while they picked up Kanan and ran.

Sabine flew across the hull of the _Imminent Pursuit_ faster than Zeb had ever seen the Mandalorian go, and he knew that she, to, was worried beyond worried.

Zeb rolled his shoulders, flexing in apprehension. Without any bucket-heads to bash in, he was left in a state of nervous anxiety, with no medium as to take it out on.

_Kanan, you better be there, or we might not ever get to go on another mission again_.

* * *

The Inquisitor wasn't winning.

That was a change. Usually the Jedi posed no more of a threat to the Inquisitor than an upset tooka. Now, he was actually holding his ground. He wasn't losing either, but the two were actually... on _equal_ footing.

The Inquisitor supposed that the absence of the Force made up for a lot of changes.

But still, the Jedi was only fighting one handed. Without the extra support and stability to his lightsaber that holding it with both hands would have given him, the Inquisitor had managed to nick the Jedi on the side of his left arm, in an attempt to try and make the Jedi drop the boy.

But he was still holding out. No, not just holding out. Jarrus was actually posing a threat to the Inquisitor. The scar on his lower right femur attested to that, causing him jolts of pain whenever he took a step.

And the Inquisitor's worry was paramount. After all, they were in nuetrul territory. If they went one floor lower, the Inquisitor would be able to once again infiltrate Bridger's mind and reclaim his tool. If the Jedi somehow got off the ship, the Inquisitor would be completely cut off from the boy's mind because of the Ysalimir.

It had turned out that his most useful tool in keeping the Jedi away from Bridger had now been turned against him, to become the weakness that may or may not take the boy out of his reach forever. How ironic.

And all of his mental fighting tactics were muzzled without the use of the Force. Without that single essential component, he had no idea of what his comments were accomplishing against the Jedi, which left him clueless as to the right thing to make him give up hope.

Of course, the Inquisitor could still function without the Force.

He could read the Jedi's face to quite an accurate amount. When he had revealed the presence of the _Executor_, Jarrus had paled. He was afraid. Well, so was the Inquisitor. To a certain extent.

Vader was indeed at Kashyyyk. And so was the Inquisitor. Directly against his Master's orders. To make matters even worse, he had arrived on a ship filled to the brim with Ysalimir, making the image of his disobedience that much stronger. And now he was showing his Master that the entire resources of the _Imminent Pursuit_ could be evaded and wasted on a single, tiny, insignificant ship and its' crew.

When this battle was over, Bridger would have to be his. Otherwise, the Inquisitor's own life was unaccounted for. At the very least, he would be punished most severely. Without Bridger, the Inquisitor could not hope to stand up to his Master's wrath.

"Now, let me ask you one more time: why would you risk the lives of your entire crew for the sake of one man? That is definitely not the way of the Jedi." The Inquisitor would throw everything he had at the Jedi, physically or mentally.

"Because this one man is worth more to us than you could ever comprehend, bucko." He parried the Inquisitor's red lightsaber out of the way and hopped back to where he had been before. The Inquisitor was refraining from using his double-bladed mode, as without the Force to properly control the weapon he might kill the child riding on the Jedi's shoulders. No matter. The Jedi was putting on a brave front, but the Inquisitor was adept at reading between the lines. He was scared, badly, and who wouldn't be? The _Executor_ was built to inspire fear, it was only natural that it should succeed.

"Well, if he was worth that much to you, then don't you think you would be worth as much to him? He gave into me, Jedi. He abandoned you. Your crew. If he's so precious to your pathetic band of rebels, don't you think he'd hold out a little longer?" The Inquisitor saw doubt and guilt flicker across the Jedi's face, and he pressed his advantage with another swipe at the Jedi's legs.

"Oh yes. Before you came along, he was perfectly willing to fight for me." But then the opposite of what he wanted happened. Jarrus actually laughed, deflecting his attack and making one of his own.

"I don't know about that. When I found him he was no where near how you'd treat a willing soldier. You don't torture your crew for fun, do you?" The Inquisitor scowled, _very _much so annoyed that the Jedi refused to cave in.

"Why must you go against the will of he Force?! Can you not clearly sense that his boy has the potential to do something great?!" But Jarrus only looked at him with blazing determination.

"I don't care how powerful Ezra may or may not become. He's more that just a Force-user. He's part of my crew. Nothing will ever change that, no matter what you do otherwise." The Inquisitor just glared at him, before leaping at the Jedi with ferocity.

The Inquisitor did not care about this man's wishy-washy feelings. Bridger was his key to ascending higher into the realm of the Dark, to rid the galaxy of one of its' most bloated rulers. Why could the Jedi not let the child go for the greater good of the galaxy?

A key of beeps sounded out behind him. The Jedi's face lit up in relief. Something that was only promising dread for the Inquisitor.

Sparing a glance at what the Jedi was looking at, the Inquisitor saw a computer terminal lit up with green lights. Oh. That had been why the Jedi had stuck to this area instead of running away. The access hatch was supposed to be used to provide easy access for outer-ship repairs, so that troopers in space-suits could get to any damaged areas without too much trouble.

Only now, the Inquisitor was suspecting that the rebels were using it as an easy get-in and escape point. They were indeed crafty.

However, the Inquisitor's moment of revelation was payed for dearly. Jarrus delivered a vicious kick to his mid-riff that sent the Inquisitor flying, meters away from the hatch.

"NO!" The Inquisitor was not fast enough. The Jedi was jumping through the hatch. As hard as he pumped his legs, he could not reach him. The hatch closed. The ship outside of it left. Jarrus was gone.

And he had taken his ultimate tool.

* * *

**Phew! That took a while to write. But yay! Ezra's with Kanan! They made it! And if they can survive Darth Vader's elite Ties, they'll have a nice family reunion over space-tea and biscuits.**


	32. End Game: Part VII

**Now, let us see how everyone deals with the Ties... and a little after that. And the _NEXT_ chapter's gonna be Inquisitor again... because that's just going to be freaking awesome.**

**Disclaimer: If Rebels was belonging to my possession, this wouldn't be a fan-fic. It'd be an episode. Since it's not, can we agree Rebel's isn't mine? Thank you.**

* * *

Kanan's heart leapt when he saw the green lights on the monitor. The _Phantom_ was there! Sabine had finally gotten the ship into position! They could finally leave the accursed _Imminent Pursuit_!

The Inquisitor, distracted by what was making Kanan so happy, wasn't able to block Kanan's kick. He flew down the hall, and Kanan didn't waste any time mocking him. He immediately ran to the hatch, which was opened by Zeb, and jumped with as much strength as he could muster. It wasn't a Force jump, but adrenaline was his friend. And so was a Lasat with twice his strength.

"NO!" The Inquisitor's scream of rage rang through Kanan's ears, but they were already closing the hatch.

They did it! They got Ezra out of there!

"How's the kid?!" Sabine yelled out from the cockpit, already taking off. Kanan folded down five of the _Phantom_'s seats and laid Ezra down on them, as gentle as he could be. He didn't know the full scope of his injuries, but Kanan sure as Force didn't want to aggravate whatever had been done to him.

Zeb was looking over Kanan's shoulder with a worried look, his sensitive nose taking in the heavy scent of blood. "He'll be fine, with time. What about us?"

"Well, Vader's got about thirty troopers in Tie's chasing after Hera, and pretty soon they'll be coming after us, but other than that we're just dandy."

"Only thirty? I thought he had over a hundred?!"

"Well, Vader's not the Inquisitor. He doesn't think the _Ghost_ is much of a threat." Zeb chuckled slightly behind him, though Kanan could still tell he was worried sick. He just put on a braver front than most, as the Lasat was one of the most stubborn people Kanan knew.

"I guess Hera'll make him see differently."

"If we survive this."

"Well, yeah. Did you send the message out to Hera, Sabine?" The Mando girl gave affirmination, then swerved violently to the right.

"Sorry guys, but attaching back into the _Ghost _is gonna be difficult. These pilots aren't under Vader for no reason."

"Give me a second, I can help with that." Kanan slowed his breathing and connected to the Force.

It gave him immense pleasure that he could feel his Padawan again.

But Kanan expanded his realm of presence beyond the _Phantom,_ instead reaching out towards the pilot's of the Ties swarming around the _Ghost_. They were moving faster than any Tie Kanan had encountered, and he put it together than Vader, of course, would have only the best and fastest ships under his control.

Steadying his breathing, Kanan extended a tendril of thought towards on of the Tie squadron's leaders. With a twitch of the Force, the pilot lost concentration, and the vehicle he was flying crashed into one of his subordinates'.

"Alright!" Sabine's war cry of joy was matched by Zeb, but Kanan frowned. These were indeed trained pilots. Even though their leader had just careened into one off into one of their own, the team of Ties did not waver. Vader's ship had their pilots learn how to operate even without direct commands. Dispatching of their leader would do just about as much as dispatching an ordinary fighter. These were indeed advanced fighters.

A presence in the Force brushed up against Kanan's own. But it was not the colorful aura of Ezra. It was the black void of someone far more menacing than the Inquisitor.

With a rush of panic, Kanan closed off his mind to the Force, raising every mental shield he knew how. If that was indeed Darth Vader, it would take everything that Kanan would have to hold him off. But Vader did not attempt to take control of Kanan's mind. If anything, he had just scouted out the threats inside the _Phantom_, to see who it had been that had destroyed his Ties...

With another rush of concern, Kanan threw as much protection as he could over Ezra, whose mental defenses' stability he had absolutely no idea of. If he wanted to, Kanan had no doubt that Vader could dive into Ezra's mind and take whatever he wanted to.

Only Kanan wasn't going to let that happen.

But it was with slight... amusement? that Vader drew away from Ezra's now shielded mind. He had left them alone. Both of them alone. Why? Why would one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy decide to leave them alone when he had the power to crush their minds in his hands?

Whatever the case, Kanan was still glad he did it. They were being harrowed enough by the fifty or so Tie fighters swarming around them like so many angry bees. Watching the _Ghost_ harrowing in and out of all the commotion made Kanan gain new appreciation for Hera. She truly was a spectacular pilot.

Only so were the Ties.

Sabine shot a stream of lasers at the mass of enemies swarming around them, catching the men who hadn't noticed the _Phantom_ off guard. A few of them exploded, but then nearly half of the oncoming forces came straight for them.

"Now that they know we're here can we communicate to Hera?"

"We can, but I don't think she'll be too focused on us at the moment!"

"Just patch me through!" And Sabine punched a few buttons before once again devoting her entire attention to the battle at hand. Within a second, a crackly message burst through, and the annoyed voice of Hera was all Kanan needed to know she was, indeed, focused entirely on the battle:

"_Unless one of you is dead, I don't want to hear anything from anyone!_"

"Nice to hear from you too, Hera. We got Ezra out of there, but he's gonna need some medical attention."

"_What's wrong?!"_

"I thought you said you didn't want to hear it?"

"_Kanan!_"

"Nothing major. I think his left arm and right leg are broken, though." Zeb interrupted him.

"Nothing major all right, but he's lost about fifteen pounds and a lot of blood." Kanan looked at the Lasat, who was looking at Ezra, eyes narrowed in concern. Apparently his nose was a lot better than it looked.

"Yeah. Like I said, he'll need some medical attention. But do you think we could actually manage to dock?"

"_That's a question Sabine needs to answer first._" Kanan turned a questioning glance towards he Mandalorian, and she gave a shrug, still focused on the Ties in front and around the _Phantom_. "If we can get just a single moment of peace, then yeah. But attaching while all these bucket-heads are flying around us is gonna be tricky."

"_Even more so because they aren't regular bucket-heads, Sabine._"

"Fine then. Bowl-heads." Kanan laughed, but he was painfully aware that this was _not_ the time for making petty jokes. the _Executor_ was looming ever closer, and he knew how powerful their tractor beams were. If they hung around for much longer, the escape from the _Imminent Pursuit_ would be meaningless.

"Can you make the jump to Togoria? I think that'd be the best option that we have here, jump away and then regroup."

"_I think we're going to have to. Sabine?_"

"I'm with you all the way, Hera. Besides, I don't want to stick around for Darth Helmet to catch up to us."

"_You're just full of head-humor, aren't you?_"

"I try."

"_See you on the other side!_" And Hera disconnected from the comm-channel. No longer focusing on fighting the Ties, the _Ghost_ zoomed away from the Ties that had been pursuing her, leaving the momentarily stunned pilots to catch up to her at their own pace.

Sabine did likewise, accelerating the _Phantom_ to fly out of the swarm of attackers, until they were all behind her. Deftly moving her fingers across the panels of the dash, she plugged in the coordinates they had all agreed was the rendezvous point. Within another second they had shot off into space, Sabine yelling out her joy at having successfully escaped.

Kanan simply smiled tiredly, sinking into one of the fold-down seats across from his apprentice. They had done it. They'd gotten Ezra back. They'd saved him.

* * *

"Put him down here, Kanan, and I'll go find out what sort of supplies we have to treat him with. Zeb, would you go and get the bacta? And Sabine, start hooking him up to the equipment." Hera left the med-bay to go and find whatever extra materials they had, mother-hen mode completely activated.

Zeb went over to the cabinet to fetch the bacta-gauze, for wrapping Ezra's wounds in, while Kanan gently deposited his Padawan onto the very same med-bay he had occupied twice now. Almost without thinking, he carefully moved a strand of hair out of the boy's face. It had been far, _far_ too long since he had been able to properly take care of his Padawan.

"Here, Kanan, let me get to him." Sabine's quiet voice made Kanan back up slightly, to allow the Mandalorian better access to Ezra. He sunk down into a chair to the right of his apprentice, never taking his eyes off of the boy. He didn't look good at all.

Like Zeb had said, he looked like he had lost about fifteen pounds. His skin was gaunt, stretched over his bones tightly, and he had a sickly tint about him. As soon Sabine was done with setting up the equipment, she took a step backwards to view the results the scanners had given.

Like Kanan had predicted, Ezra's left arm and right leg were broken, but also two of his ribs. Kanan sucked in his breath when the nervous system's results came in, though. They showed evidence of repeated electrical shocks, no doubt administered by the droid Kanan had destroyed, and there was a serum lingering in his blood system that made his sense of touch almost twice as acute. That probably hadn't been fun. There were also traces of other chemicals in his veins, the nature of which Kanan was sure he wouldn't like to know. Other than that, there were infections located all around his body, and the cuts and bruises that weren't infected were still oozing slightly. There were lightsaber burns on his sides, and his throat was so course that Kanan doubted Ezra would be able to speak for a few days at least.

The Inquisitor really hadn't held back, had he?

Zeb whistled lowly, and Sabine shook her head sadly. Kanan just sat there, chewing the inside of his lip. He was suddenly wishing that there were a few more bucket-heads out there to take his anger out on. It wasn't the Jedi way... but the Jedi had never had to deal with their sons being treated so... so... decidedly _awful..._

Hera came back into the room, narrowing her eyes at the results that the scanners showed her. As for vital statistics, he was in the green area, but everything else... Kanan knew that the Twi'lek probably felt just as passionately for the teen as he did, and was severely cursing the Empire and everything affiliated with it in her head.

"Come on, guys. Sooner we get this done, sooner he can wake up." Everyone got to work. After all, Ezra was family.

And they'd do anything for their family.

* * *

**YES! They're finally all together! But don't worry, Kanan still has a bunch of sorting out to do... but mainly, the Inquisitor has an upcoming audience with Darth Vader.**

**Yeah, the entirety of the next chapter is, I feel, going to be on that battle. It's just gonna be too epic to not have in this story, and too important to spend any less time than a chapter on. So, now that you all have that to look forward to as well, I bid you adieu for now!**


	33. Because it was the Will of the Force

**All right. Now, time for probably what's going to turn out to be the most epic chapter I'll write in this story: Inquisitor vs. Vader. I hope you all enjoy!**

**ALSO: There is a moment in this chapter where the seemingly impossible happens. PLEASE PLEASE read to the absolute ending of the chapter before rushing off to the reviews, typing in how that situation would never have actually happened. Just... read it all. :)**

**Disclaimer: Rebels doesn't belong to me, because of some very legal documents and other complicated things. Just trust me, it's not mine.**

* * *

_"Sir. Lord Vader is requesting your presence aboard the_ Executor."

"Is he, now."

"_Yes, sir. He says immediately_."

The Inquisitor closed his eyes. This wasn't going to end well for him. Any way. He could either go ahead with the fight and just accept the outcome of the battle, or he could allow Vader to have his way with him. Either way had risks. Either way, he could end up dead.

He could simply live with whatever punishment Vader dolled out to him and continue to pursue Bridger. Or Vader would simply kill him.

He could fight Vader alone and win the fight through the most intense fighting he had ever been through. Or Vader would kill him.

What should he do? After all, the biggest problem was that Vader was that he had, at one point, been the Chosen One. He had a powerful connection to the Force, one that rivaled perhaps even the Emperor's. Without Bridger to nullify that connection, the Inquisitor would be almost completely powerless against the black menace, and- oh.

The Inquisitor's eyes snapped open. It was so simple.

Vader was a fearsome warrior because of his strong connection to the Force. The Inquisitor had onboard hundreds of Force-repelling Ysalimir.

The Inquisitor brought the communicator to his mouth and keyed in to one of his main officer's channels. "Have the Ysalimir brought to hangar-bay two. Immediately."

"_Sir, yes sir!_"

"And tell Lord Vader that I have something... out of the ordinary to show him that requires his personal presence."

"_Yes, sir!_"

The Inquisitor stood up, and walked briskly out of his quarters towards hangar-bay two. The oncoming fight had to be carefully planned out. His men would be kept out of the hangar-bay, as they would not support the fight against one of their superior officers. Vader, of course, would enter the ship with his elite soldiers, but they could be dealt with, escorted out of the bay before the fighting begun.

_Why_ he hadn't thought of this before he had no idea... it was so simple, so mind-numbingly _simple, _but the Inquisitor had not thought to challenge Vader directly... because Bridger was important to the Force. Oooh, now he saw, Bridger _was_ important, he _was_ an important part of this battle. Just not directly.

Because, the Inquisitor wouldn't have gotten the Ysalimir without having the child as motivation, would he? That was why the Jedi didn't understand Bridger's importance, because only the Inquisitor would have been drawn to him... the Force did indeed work in mysterious ways. He hoped.

Now armed with the mind-set that his was indeed what the Force had meant for him, the Inquisitor lengthened his stride. It would not do to be late for a fight from destiny.

* * *

"_Sir, as you ordered, Lord Vader has been asked to leave his personal guard in hangar-bay one._"

"And?"

"_He refused, sir. He is en-route to hangar-bay two currently._"

"Very well, officer. As soon as his entourage is through the doors, seal them until my command. What transpires in here is not to be monitored in any way, shape or form."

_"Sir, yes sir!"_

The Inquisitor put his communicator away and stood at parade-rest, in the middle of hangar-bay two, facing the doors. Vader's guards he could deal with quickly. While it was true the Inquisitor was no longer connected to the Force, he also had a lightsaber. The guards did not.

What was about to happen would go down in history as the turning point of the era, where one fearsome man would be replaced with another. Where the position for eventual ruler of the galaxy would be replaced with someone far more capable that he...

The doors opened.

Through them came four of Vader's 501st guards-members, the elite corp of troops. They had their blasters held at ceremonial rest, held at an angle across their chest and to the left. They were the spitting image of what an Imperial officer should be, with their immaculate armor, white, blemish-free and shining, their movements perfectly coordinated with one another's. However, the most intimidating member trailed in behind them.

Darth Vader entered the hangar-bay, black cape billowing out behind him. Even from this distance, the Inquisitor could hear his respirator, echoing eerily through the crate-filled room. His foot-steps were not coordinated with his troopers, but that seemed to make him the most obvious leader of the group.

Well, that and the fact that pure _power_ seemed to radiate off of him.

Not through the Force, the Inquisitor was in the middle of the Ysalimir's range and was completely cut off from the Force. No, Vader just seemed to radiate power on his own. He was an intimidating spectacle, a dark warrior mixed with robot that sparked fear into the souls of millions.

And the Inquisitor was going to fight him.

The hangar-bay doors closed behind them, and the Inquisitor knew that his men had sealed the door behind them. Nothing would interrupt their battle.

Vader gave a single hand-signal, and the four soldiers lined up to the left and right of the now closed doors. Apparently Vader already knew what was going on, because his stride did not falter even when he walked through the Ysalimir's range of Force-repellence.

"Lord Vader. I hope to find you well?" The Inquisitor put just a hint of a smile on his face, watching at the extremely fast rate Vader was approaching him. He really did have long steps.

"This is no time for games, Inquisitor." Vader spoke out, his powerful voice echoing even more than his breathing. It bothered the Inquisitor just slightly that his respirator was operating under its' own timing, meaning that his words and breathing did not match up.

"You directly dis-obeyed my orders. What's more, you brought a Jedi into the system of Kashyyyk, threatening a highly sensitive operation. And now I find you standing in the middle of a cargo-bay with Force-disrupting creatures. Not only have you failed to dispatch of two Force-sensitives, but you've also directly disobeyed me. Twice now, in refusing to come aboard the _Executor_. Such dis-obedience and failure is not tolerable." And with a single swipe of his hand, Vader's crimson lightsaber blossomed from nothingness, humming slightly. He was close now, only a few seconds remained before he was within dueling range.

"So good to see you get straight down to business." And the Inquisitor drew his own lightsaber. He dared not put in into intimidation mode, as the dual blades spinning around would not only be impossible to control without the Force, but also Vader was such an accomplished fighter that he would somehow use the ever rotating blades to his advantage. And he didn't activate the blade's dual fighting mode for much the same reasons.

Vader leapt at the Inquisitor, bringing down his lightsaber so fast that he only barely blocked in time. Even then, the dark warrior was so powerful that his lightsaber was pushed back until it was almost in contact with his skin. The Inquisitor guessed that even without the Force, the bionic suit surrounding him gave Vader strength beyond an average humans.

"Were you really so foolish as to think that you could take on me, Inquisitor? Somehow I find your lack of intelligence... disturbing."

"It is no lack of intelligence, Vader, merely the realization that the galaxy would be better off to have a competent ruler over it, instead of some puppet in a black robot suit." Vader retracted his lightsaber from the lock and swung at the Inquisitor's legs, to be met with another parry. They might not have access to the Force, but both were still skilled sword wielders, and they would fight using the utmost extent of their abilities.

The Inquisitor took a swipe at Vader's upper left side, to be parried by a side swipe from the dark menace before him. They continued trading blows, gaining speed with every move. But there was something off. Vader wasn't... he wasn't giving it his best. He was attacking in such a manner that almost seemed easy for the Inquisitor to counter...

_Ah. I see he has his own way of disrupting his opponent's thoughts._

Vader was making himself seem like an easy opponent on purpose, to try and put the Inquisitor to ease. This would have made the Inquisitor full of himself, make him think he was more powerful than he actually was. If he let power get to his head, he would become careless, and make more mistakes... which Vader would use to end him.

He wasn't the eliminator of the Jedi for nothing.

"Sorry, Vader, but your mind techniques won't work on me. And without access to the Force, your only option is to defeat me in combat, in which;" The Inquisitor leapt out away from Vader, preforming a back-flip as he did so. Landing flat on his feet in a crouching position, the Pau'an shot Vader a toothy grin, eyes narrowed, "I have the advantage in acrobatics."

Vader did not indulge him in dialogue, however. With the practiced ease of a sprinter, Vader took off for the Inquisitor, who also ran towards his foe. "Face it, Vader, with that suit you're nothing more than a walking droid that knows how to wield a lightsaber. You may have been great once, but now you are no more."

They clashed blades, and once again the Inquisitor marveled at the strength Vader had without the Force. Whatever Vader lacked in agility he more than made up for in strength. With a sudden fury, the Sith swung his blade at such speed that the Inquisitor could barely keep up with it. Vader stabbed at the Inquisitor repeatedly, each stroke becoming more vicious than the last, until they once again locked their blades together.

"While limited, this body has far more powerful than yours could ever hope to accomplish. The only thing your agility will do for you is enable you to run away." The Inquisitor snarled, then doubled his own force on the blade. He was rewarded when Vader's lightsaber was pushed back a few inches. But then, all of a sudden, his lightsaber wasn't there anymore. And... neither was he.

Because Vader had used the considerable amount of power and strength of his bionic suit to leap up and over the Inquisitor, landing heavily behind the Pau'an. The Inquisitor only barely was able to parry his singular stroke, having just gotten his lightsaber into the appropriate position at the right time. Without the Force, he really was just an ordinary person with a laser sword. Fighting a bionically enhanced person with another laser sword.

The Inquisitor was never going to have the upper hand against Vader, even if Bridger was here. He had known that all along. But changes never came without risks.

"I won't run away from you, Vader. After all, being entirely dependent on your suit makes you no more of a threat than a man relying entirely on others to keep him alive." And the Inquisitor made a daring slash at the multiple boxes that sustained Vader's life-support systems. Vader deflected his lightsaber downwards, taking the blade out of range from his precious machinery, instead grazing his left leg. Though his initial strike had failed, the Inquisitor's message had still been carried through

Having your weakness displayed so carelessly on the front of your person was a dumb move.

And, inspired by his successful(ish) attack, the Inquisitor began making mad flurries, swinging his blade over and over again. Vader blocked with each time, but as the speed with which the Inquisitor swung increased, Vader had to resort to dodging a few of the attacks. Each time, the Inquisitor's targeted Vader's life-support systems, making it so that the masked warrior had no choice but to act upon the attacks.

Hoping to catch him off guard, the Inquisitor once again leaped out over Vader, and once he had landed behind him, dashed wildly to the right. Vader moved to slow to fully discern the Inquisitor's flight over him, and so by the time he had turned around to block whatever attack he though was coming, the Inquisitor was exactly even with the warrior's left side, where his lightsaber could not reach immediately.

Reacting instantly to the Sith's momentary blindness, the Inquisitor thrust his lightsaber towards Vader's exposed side, where he had no lightsaber to defend himself. With a soft 'squelch,' his lightsaber drove home, burying itself into Vader's mid-riff.

There was a single moment where all was still. Vader was looking down at the red blade as though surprised it was there, though with the mask covering his face it was impossible to tell what the man-turned-machine was feeling. The Inquisitor was watching the Sith for any sign of retaliation; of any attack that he might make against the so-far unmoving Inquisitor. He couldn't see the four 501st guards, but based on the fact that he couldn't hear any movement, he guessed they were still standing where Vader had left them.

He'd done it. He'd mortally wounded Darth Vader. What he had been _obsessing_ about for nearly a year... ever since he had seen Bridger's power on the asteroid. And now, that goal had been accomplished.

Vader's respirator kept on functioning, but of course it would. After all, the Inquisitor had not damaged it in the slightest, instead dealing a flesh-wound. Even when Vader was long gone, the machinery inside of him would continue to make his lungs pump air in and out... and that's what they were doing. Because Vader was dying. The Inquisitor had done it.

With a soft hiss, the Inquisitor retracted his lightsaber from the flesh of his enemy, still keeping the blade active. He was too cautious to turn off his weapon.

But he hadn't needed to. Vader slumped down on his knees, lightsaber deactivating in his hand. The Inquisitor kicked him down onto the floor, he crumpled down pathetically onto his side. He reveled in the sight of his Master lying on the ground, completely helpless.

The Inquisitor watched over the form of the black warrior for a few seconds, looking for any signs of trickery, but the battle had already been won. There was no getting over the fact that the Inquisitor had dealt him a mortal blow. Crouching down, the Inquisitor loomed over the form of his Master.

"You see? You were once powerful, but then you lost. The only reason why you lived until this moment was because of the machines that the Emperor designed for you... but machines can only go so far. Underneath the black suit, you really are nothing more than a man, a mutated, diseased man. But the machines that you so vehemently depend on can not save you from death. You are nothing without it." The Inquisitor smiled. He laughed through his nose. That laughter grew into quiet chuckles. The chuckles evolved into fully-grown glee, the Pau'an's head tilting upwards to the heavens. After all, his Master was dead. The Inquisitor had won, he had overthrown the Sith Lord, and now he would take his rightful place beside the Emperor, to one day rule the Galaxy with a fist of ir-

There was a sharp pain in his chest, right through his heart. The laughter died in the Inquisitor's throat, and he looked downwards at what was ruining this glorious moment.

Vader's lightsaber was sticking through the Pau'an's chest, humming much the same as his own had done mere moments before.

"You forget, Inquisitor. While I am man, I am machine as well. And I am not separated from it yet." This time, it was the Inquisitor's turn to slump down. It seemed that Vader's exo-suit supported him more than the Pau'an had originally assumed.

How had this happened?! The Force was supposed to be in his side, to let the Inquisitor take his place! That was why it had led him to Bridger, to the Ysalimir, so that he could fight Vader on equal terms... why hadn't the Force shown him to victory, if that was its' will?!

"Another reason why you were never a match for me, Inquisitor. The will of the Force does not conform to your own. In your arrogance, you assumed that it was your destiny to ascend to power... and so refused to entertain the possibility of defeat. Such an apprentice is worth nothing." And Vader rose, towering over the slumped form of the Inquisitor. Leaving him to die, the Sith strode away to his soldiers, and exited the hangar-bay.

The Inquisitor had lost. He had played out to the Force's demands, which had called for him to die. What a fool he had been.

And the Inquisitor, with all of his lust and obsession for the Dark side of the Force, his cunning and planning and observation, his mental and physical power and strength, was no more.

* * *

Vader looked out of his bridge aboard the _Executor_, the blue-white blur of hyperspace reflecting off of his helmet. The Inquisitor's betrayal and demise meant nothing to the Dark warrior. He could easily be replaced.

And he wasn't concerned with the wound the Pau'an had delivered to him either. His exo-suit kept all of his bodily organs functioning, and as long as none of the machines were damaged, neither would his life.

No, what occupied the Sith's thoughts was the reaction of the Jedi he had sensed aboard the ship fleeing from the _Imminent Pursuit_. He had shielded his thoughts in a manner Vader had never seen before. Instead of masking his presence with concentration and connection to the Force, the man had used his emotions; particularly his concern and love for another, to create a barrier stronger than anything he would have been taught before the Fall of the Jedi.

Vader had never yet seen a survivor turn from their teachings in such a manner.

But that had not been the most peculiar thing the man had done. He had thrown his enhanced mental shields over the boy. He had used his feelings toward the child to protect him.

Much like Vader himself had done sixteen years ago, when he had turned to the Dark to protect the one he loved.

Intriguing. This was most intriguing. Perhaps the survivors of the extermination would prove to be more interesting than the Sith had originally assumed.

* * *

Kanan looked up suddenly, eyes narrowed just ever so slightly. But there was nothing odd in the med-bay, no movement to distract him other than the gentle rise and fall of his Padawan's chest.

Something big had happened in the Force. Something momentous.

But Kanan was not concerned by it. Shaking his head, he once again turned his focus onto his apprentice, keeping vigil until the teen awoke. The Force had executed its' will, but Kanan was not required by it. He was by Ezra.

And as he resumed his faithful watch, the Jedi imagined that there was a more peaceful look on his apprentice's face, as though one of his burdens had just been washed away.

* * *

**Phew! That took a while to write... sorry guys! I just didn't want to deliver something this important and have it be completely wrong... but, it's out now, and I can get to the mushy-gushy family stuff next. Hurray for space-fluff!**


	34. The Process of Healing

**Holy _cow_, this took a while to write... over 5,000 words about nothing but fluff. Pure space family-fluff. Well, it is in popular demand right about now... so the majority of you all should really like this chapter. I know I do... but then, I like anything to do with Rebels fluff. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Star Wars: Rebels, contrary to public opinion, does _not_ in fact belong to a small girl sitting alone on her computer. Instead, it's some guy sitting in front of a computer's.**

* * *

Ezra was lying down.

Where? He didn't know that. It sure as heck wasn't his cell, this surface was _way_ softer than the strip of metal had ever been. There were soft beeps sounding out at a steady pace, lulling Ezra into a comforting sort of state. Wherever he was, it was a lot more peaceful than anywhere he'd been for the last few weeks.

Ezra was almost tempted to go back to sleep, he was so at ease. But he wouldn't let himself. After all, whenever he was at ease, the Inquisitor was surely planning something diabolical.

Groggily, Ezra opened his eyes, to nearly be blinded by white light. It wasn't violent, it was just _really_ bright, and after having been asleep for who knew how long, his eyes protested to the sudden intrusion. After a few seconds, though, Ezra realized that another reason his eyes were smarting was that he was looking directly into the light above him. Annoying.

He would have sat up, but his entire body was so sore that even the thought of moving hurt. Chip _really_ had done his best. Ezra suspected that he had a few broken ribs, and, of course, his arm and leg. His left arm. Why did it always have to be that arm?

So, instead of sitting up, Ezra was content to simply turn his head to view his surroundings. He was in a bed; a _real_ bed, not just a slab of metal with a sheet thrown over it. To his right and a few feet away was another bed, un-occupied, and a cabinet of some kind. Behind that and to the left was a grey door, but it was closed and Ezra couldn't see anything behind it. There was a white counter on the opposite side of the door, completely empty, which stretched around in front of his bed. And to his left-

Ezra's breath caught in his mutilated throat. Sitting in a chair to the left side of Ezra's legs was Kanan.

Ezra looked at the form of his Master.

He was slumped in his chair, snoring just slightly, his head bobbing on his chest. There was a bandage over his left arm. For all intents and purposes, Kanan Jarrus looked very much so alive. But that was impossible! Ezra had seen it himself, the Inquisitor had run his lightsaber through his Master's heart. Kanan was dead. But he was also right here...

Was Ezra dead? No, the numerous pings of pain from his body told him that he was very much so alive.

How could this be, then? Was he hallucinating? Maybe... but then, the image of Kanan _had_ appeared inside Ezra's cell... was this just a cruel joke of the Inquisitor's? Ezra could see the Pau'an showing him the illusion of his family just to distract him from his mental shields-

His mental shields. They had dropped completely. Like, _all the way_. If that had happened, then why wasn't he a puppet, to do nothing but the Pau'an's wishes? As a matter of fact, Ezra couldn't sense the Inquisitor anywhere near him... but he wasn't going to drop his shields for a single moment. If this was a trick, a trap, then he wasn't going to fall for it.

But Kanan looked so real...

The Jedi stirred, and his eyes opened blearily. Ezra stared at him, drinking in the sight of his Master living and breathing. Even if it was a mirage, the sight of Kanan alive and well was... precious to him.

As soon as he saw that Ezra was awake, Kanan started in his chair, his eyes suddenly wide open.

"Ezra!" The older man had a smile on his open face, one that mingled with relief and elation, and he was leaning forward in his chair. "Hey, there, buddy. How're you feeling?" Ezra opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He was just gaping at Kanan, opening and closing his mouth silently, slightly shaking his head. After all, what response could he give to a dead- ish - man?

The Jedi's brow furrowed, and his smile lost some of it's jubilance. Something was going on in his head. There was something going on in Ezra's head as well. How could there not be? But his throat hurt _way_ too much to ask all the questions zooming around in his head. That, and he wasn't even sure if he wanted to indulge this... real/fake/imaginary Kanan. For now, he was completely content with letting the aparation-ish-maybe-thing speak.

"Ezra... I don't know what happened on the _Imminent Pursuit..._ But I can assure you. We're alive. I'm alive. We're _all_ alive. We got you out of there." The small tired smile once again appeared on his face. "The Inquisitor can't hurt you anymore."

Ezra stared at the Jedi. This... what? They were alive? But he _saw_ them killed... their bodies had _definitely _been dead. But Kanan was here, talking to him.

"If you're still not convinced... you can sense me in the Force, right?" Kanan raised a single eyebrow questioningly. Was this where Ezra shut down his mental shields in hope, only to have his freedom once again taken from him? Was this where the Inquisitor tried his hardest to make Ezra drop his shields using pleasure instead of pain? Was this just some fancy delusion Ezra had dreamed up?

Or... was this the truth?

Kanan chuckled. "You don't have to keep your guard up now, kiddo. I don't know whether to be frustrated or proud at how strong your shields are." Ezra blinked. "They stopped me from trying to help you mind re-cooperate, which was annoying... but it's nice to see that you did actually pay attention to my teachings." That did it. Ezra melted.

Even if this wasn't really Kanan, if the man before him was an illusion, it was so well done that Ezra didn't care about any potential danger. He would gladly play along with him, whatever he may or may not be, if it meant that he could see Kanan alive and reacting once again. Ezra dropped his mental shields- which had been vigorously maintained while unconscious- and the most amazing thing happened.

_He felt Kanan_.

He was right there, his Force signature strong as it had ever been, just like Ezra remembered it. Kanan smiled, sending out affirmation, and Ezra felt tears spring into his eyes. Not only was Kanan still here, but he could feel Hera, and Zeb, and Sabine... they were all alive. The Force never lied. He didn't know how, he didn't care why, but his crew was alive. And he was with them.

Ezra's head flopped back down onto the pillow, a smile of such happiness and wonderment on his face that it seemed- for a few seconds- as though he had never been held captive on the _Imminent Pursuit_ at all.

The nightmare was over.

* * *

Kanan watched as his Padawan's head flopped back onto the medical pillow, his face burst into one of the most sincere smiles the Jedi had ever seen. Apparently Ezra had found Kanan in the Force, and believed him when he had said they were all alive. He was touched that such news could elicit such a response.

Kanan himself slumped back into his own chair. His vigil over the teen hadn't ceased since he had been brought on board, and it had taken its' toll on the Jedi. The only little bit of respite he had allowed to pass was when Hera exclaimed about his arm, where the Inquisitor's lightsaber had cut through Kanan's defenses. It was by no means serious, but the Twi'lek had immediately taken a bacta-patch and slapped it over the burn, wrapping it in gauze. Kanan had by no means stopped her; when the woman was in mother-hen mode, nothing could. Other than that, he had not ceased his watch for food, drink, or sleep.

Well, except for when he had accidentally dozed off. But that had been an accident. Staying alert for thirty-seven standard hours would do that.

Ezra had been back on-board the _Ghost_ for thirteen hours. But Kanan had slept since the day before they had commenced the rescue operation, and it showed on his face. Kanan could barely keep his eyes open, and his whole body drooped.

"What exactly-" But Ezra was asleep again, his face showing relief beyond relief. Kanan shook his head, but let the teen sleep on. He needed it. Satisfied that his apprentice would not again doubt the lives of his crew, Kanan allowed himself to fall into a peaceful slumber beside his Padawan.

* * *

"_Hey, Hera_,"

"Yeah, Zeb?"

"_Kid's awake_."

The Twi'lek shot out of her seat, leaving Chopper to put the _Ghost_ on auto-pilot for her. This was too important.

Hera burst through the doors of the med-bay, and what she saw made her heave a heavy sigh in relief. Ezra was propped up against what looked like the entirety of pillows in the room, so that he could properly sit up. His electrifying eyes were open, and he was smiling so deeply that Hera almost doubted he was hurting at all. Kanan was sitting in the same spot as he had flopped down in hours ago, completely relaxed. Zeb and Sabine were on either side of him, standing, and they were obviously relieved to see him awake.

When Ezra saw her, his shoulders flopped down, and his face just... she knew that he was glad to see her. And she was glad to see him. Because, unlike the other three Spectres, Hera had not seen him in their first disastrous rescue attempt. The last time the Twi'lek had locked eyes with him had been when they had left to pick up the tibanna gas and other supplies on the asteroid.

"You know, you really can be troublesome sometimes, Ezra."

The teen scratched his head with his good arm, grinning sheepishly at Hera. It had been far too long since that had happened.

"Sorry, Hera, it's not like I go looking for trouble, you know." His voice was still scratchy, but the bacta they had been able to apply to his throat had done its' job. Within a day or two it'd be as good as new.

"Yeah yeah, trouble finds you." She shook her head in amusement, a small smile forming on her face. "You know, if I didn't know how much it would hurt, I'd probably be tackling you right about now." Ezra chuckled, and Kanan looked back at her.

"If I may ask, Hera, please don't do anything rash that would cause my apprentice harm." There was a twinkle in his eye that she hadn't seen since Ezra's initial capture, and she was so glad it was back again. Being the only willing mother-hen of the group was so hard, sometimes. Especially when none of her chicks seemed to want to take care of themselves.

"Like I would ever."

"Hey, I had to make sure." Hera rolled her eyes good-naturedly, and walked over to the rest of the group. Zeb shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his purple features.

"I don't think I've ever seen a sappier scene." Ezra narrowed his eyes.

"If the bucket-heads hadn't taken such a liking to my arm I'd hit you right about now." Zeb threw his head back, roaring with laughter. "And do what, kid? You ain't strong enough to do nothing."

"Am to!"

"Are not!"

"Boys, boys, calm down! You've only been awake an hour and you're already fighting? I see you haven't changed much, Ezra..." Kanan chortled, but Hera raised an eyebrow.

"He's been awake for an hour? And not one of you told me anything?" Kanan and Zeb traded glances, while Sabine held up her hands in mock surrender. Hurriedly Kanan changed the subject, but Hera vowed that the discussion wasn't over.

"What d'you mean, they took a liking to your arm?" Ezra's eyes raised in surprise, then gestured to his left arm, which hung in a sling.

"Well, first it was shot, then ripped, torn, crushed, stabbed, electrocuted, infected, crushed again by a box, broken, and then whatever Chip did to it before Kanan got me out of there." Momentarily distracted, Hera cocked her head. "Chip?"

Ezra nodded. "That's what I called the droid they sent in to 'persuade' me." Kanan's face darkened for an instant, and Hera was sure that her own did as well. She'd never forgive the Inquisitor for causing Ezra pain.

"Chip, ay? Did you get your inspiration from a certain astromech running around here?" Zeb chuckled. Him and Sabine were choosing to ignore their feelings about Ezra being tortured, which Hera supposed that they all should. It was either that or make Ezra relive those days in his cell with their reactions.

"As a matter of fact, I did. Chip made Chopper seem like a perfect gentleman, something I'm sure Baldy loved."

"Baldy?" Sabine asked, the new name catching all of the Spectres off guard. Ezra looked momentarily surprised, then chuckled. "Sorry. I kinda gave the Inquisitor a nickname as well. It's just kinda stuck with me." Kanan laughed, real mirth radiating from the Jedi. Hera didn't need the Force to feel that.

"That's as good as Sabine's 'Darth Helmet,' bucko!" Ezra's eyes crinkled in amusement, mouthing Sabine's name for Vader.

Kanan shook his head. "Well, I certainly can't match that tale, but my own left arm was not spared. He gestured towards the bacta-patch that Hera had plastered onto him. "The Inquisitor- or Baldy, I guess, -managed to snag in a hit before we escaped." This time it was Ezra's face that darkened momentarily. Hera was concerned about it, but wouldn't ruin this one moment of peace and mirth that the crew had managed to find.

But then Ezra laughed heartily. "I guess we're partners in crime, then, Master."

"Crime? Nah. You can keep the crime for yourself. I'm perfectly content with high treason against the Empire." But Hera could see that the Jedi positively glowed after being called 'Master' once again. He, too, had missed the teen.

"Oh! Speaking of which, I made a new painting, Ezra." He turned to Sabine, pleasantly surprised. "You did?"

"Yup. I think you'd like it."

"What's it got?"

"Well, I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, would I?"

"Sabine!"

"Nope. Not telling until you see it."

"Fine. I'll get up and start walking in no time, just you wait and see."

"Oh no you don't young man, you aren't moving until I am positively sure that you are in top condition."

"Hera!"

"I stand by my word." And she cocked her head, warning the youth that this point was not to be argued. He pouted, but otherwise accepted her diagnosis. "Besides, the major thing that's gonna keep you still is that leg. Until it heals over, you won't be going anywhere. And I can't change that."

Ezra sighed theatrically, but nodded. It wouldn't do to argue the point any further. Once Hera's hen mode was activated, nothing could sway its' demands.

The med-bay doors opened, and Chopper came grumbling through. Turning her attention to the grumbling bot, Hera laughed as he accused her of abandoning her post at the helm. "Sorry Chop, I got a little excited. But I trusted you to keep the _Ghost_ intact." The astromech shook his head, but that was just normal Chopper behavior.

"Hey, there's my favorite buddy! Good to see you again, Chop."

"Hey, what am I, chopped meat?"

"Sorry Zeb, but I prefer friends that don't shower me in purple fur."

"Little twerp."

"Idiot."

Hera shook her head, leku waving gently. Zeb was back to his normal antics, but the Twi'lek could see that he was just as happy as the rest of them. Kanan, however, was looking at Ezra with a thoughtful look on his face. Hera saw Ezra shoot the Jedi a furtive look, almost instantaneous. She knew that the Jedi had caught something that she had not, but Hera would let the two work it out on their own. They had their Jedi-bond, and that needed to be reconstructed as well. And who was she to get in the way of the natural process of healing?

Hera sighed. It was so good to have their family back together.

* * *

Ezra's eyes shot open in the dark.

It was late in the night, he knew that much. The crew was sleeping, each in their perspective cabins. Zeb had poked fun at him that his room would be his just for a little while longer, but that wasn't bothering Ezra that much.

It was the absolute silence that he couldn't take.

Excepting for the slight hum of hyperspace, there was no noise whatsoever aboard the _Ghost_. Ezra knew he was safe. He knew he was with his family, and that they would never let anything else harm him. It was just... the silence reminded him way too much of the nights he had spent just like this aboard the _Imminent Pursuit_.

_Come on, Ezra. Are you really going to let the_ absense_ of noise keep you up?_

But no matter what Ezra told himself, he just couldn't slip back into the emptiness of sleep. Ezra sighed.

The med-bay doors slid open, and someone walked through it. Seconds later, Kanan flipped on the lights in the room, momentarily blinding Ezra. He still hadn't gotten out of his every-day clothes.

"Too quite for you?" Ezra nodded. Kanan smiled slightly, then slid over to the chair he had been occupying before. "Just as well, I want to ask you somethings." Ezra took in a deep breath. He knew this had to happen, that there was no way around it. Kanan was going to want to know about what the Inquisitor had done... and Ezra would have to tell him about turning.

But Ezra was glad that the Jedi had waited until everyone else was out of the room to question him about it.

He knew that Kanan had seen Ezra's moment of fear when Chopper had rolled through the doors. It was just a natural reaction. Chip and Chopper sounded so much alike, it gave Ezra chills... but he had hidden his reflex from the rest of the crew, excepting Kanan, who he doubted he could hide anything from. Ezra was grateful that the Jedi hadn't pointed it out, though, instead content to allow Ezra the luxury of keeping his fears secret.

"First off... can you promise not to hold back the truth? Any of it?" Kanan looked Ezra in the eyes with all seriousness. "I need to know what happened, and sugar-coating it won't help me try to help you." Ezra paused for a moment, but nodded. Kanan had the right to know. He nodded his thanks back.

"Okay." The Jedi took a deep breath. "Why did you think we were dead?" Ezra bit his cheek. He had to start with the toughest question.

"Well... right after you guys tried rescuing me- the first time-" Ezra was talking slowly, but he had given his word. "the Inquisitor, I guess he got tired of doing the same thing over and over again without getting results. He..." Ezra swallowed, his throat dry. It no longer hurt as much, but for all intents and purposes it could be completely useless right now. Ezra couldn't look Kanan in the eyes.

"I don't know how he did it. But I- when I woke up, he came in my cell and... and dragged me to a hangar-bay. You... you all were there. Bound and gagged. I swear, Kanan, it was so real..." In his mind's eye, Ezra could see the scene as clearly as though it had only happened yesterday.

"But he... he made some soldiers shoot Hera, Zeb, Sabine... and he... he stabbed you. Th-through the heart. Kanan, I _saw_ him _kill_ you, I saw him kill all of you... and I couldn't do anything, I couldn't save you or stop him or-" Ezra found himself enveloped in a warm hug, and anything else he was going to say died in his throat. Kanan had somehow managed to get up out of his chair without Ezra noticing and had wrapped his arms around him.

It wasn't painful, instead it was warm and comforting. Ezra realized he couldn't remember the last time he had been hugged like this. Probably when his parents were still alive. Was that why his eyes were tearing up? Because it reminded him of his parents? Yeah. That was definitely it. No other reason.

When Kanan broke the embrace, his eyes were back to normal though. He had questions to ask.

"Why did I see him kill you if you're still alive? Was it some kind of enhanced drug? Because it sure didn't feel like one." Kanan shook his head, sinking back down into his seat once again.

"No, I'm pretty sure that's not what happened. I could be completely wrong, but I'm guessing that the Inquisitor probably used your state of confusion to take advantage of the situation and induce a hallucination. We... when we infiltrated the _Imminent Pursuit_, we saw a bunch of animal crates being loaded on-board. Later, I made the assumption, since he was stationed at Myrkr, that the Inquisitor was loading a bunch of Ysalimir on board." Ezra nodded.

"Since, as you know, they repel Force-abilities, he probably used them to separate us. To keep you from contacting me." Ezra nodded slowly, understanding dawning on him. That had probably been why he hadn't been able to sense Kanan after the hallucination. But Ezra wasn't done yet.

"Kanan, I..." his fists clenched together. Ezra wasn't sure if he wanted to do this at all. But he knew he had to. A single look at Kanan's eyes, filled with strength and understanding, gave Ezra everything he needed to continue. But it was still hard.

"When... right after the Inquisitor made me see that... that stuff, I... I didn't know what to do, and I... I gave up."

"Yeah. I... I felt that."

"No, Kanan, you don't understand, I... I gave up on _you_. On what you taught me. I... I turned to the Dark..." Ezra's voice was nothing more that a whisper now, and he once again couldn't look his Master in the eyes. Why did this have to be so hard? Oh. Right. Because he had gone against what Kanan had taught him.

"I just... it didn't seem like there was any other way, and I thought I needed power, and there were all these thoughts going on in my head, and the Inquisitor said that the only way I'd get power was through him, and, and..." Ezra buried his head in his hands. Now that he had started, it didn't feel like he could stop.

"Kanan... I went with the Inquisitor... I let him teach me, I let him walk all over me, I let him take away what you taught me-"

"No you didn't." Ezra's head shot up, to see Kanan looking at him with steady eyes. Without a hint of anger or hurt.

"Ezra, the only reason why we knew where you were was because..." Kanan furrowed his brow, apparently remembering something, "because I had a... a vision, I guess, where I..." he scratched his head, "_was_, you." Ezra blinked, confused.

"I don't entirely know how to describe it. I was talking with Hera, then I wasn't, I was on the floor of a ship. Only I couldn't move my body on my own." Ezra sucked in a breath, thinking he knew about when Kanan was talking about. "I heard the Inquisitor's voice, saying that you were ready to take your rightful place as his 'tool.'" Ezra nodded. Kanan continued.

"From what I saw there, it didn't look to me like you were willingly doing anything. What happened then?"

Relieved beyond relieved that Kanan hadn't retreated when he learned Ezra had turned, the teen promptly answered his question. "That's the complicated part. Like I said... I'd given up. So. The Inquisitor was... training me, and he told me to kill a stormtrooper. With the Force. But I, I... I couldn't do it. I was remembering you saying that it was a dangerous thing, and I couldn't kill the soldier."

"See? I told you you didn't let him take away my teachings." Ezra shot a grateful smile at Kanan before continuing.

"Yeah... but Baldy didn't like that. He... he didn't want me to disobey him, because... he wanted a tool to fight Vader with." Kanan shook his head like a bantha shooing away a fly.

"What? He wanted to fight Vader?!"

"Oh yeah, I didn't tell you... that was why he went to Kashyyyk even though Vader told him not to. Just... I'll get to that eventually, okay?" Kanan was still surprised, but he settled for waiting.

"Soooo, to prevent me from going against his orders... he kind of..." Ezra scratched his head, not really sure exactly _what_ the Inquisitor had done, only it's effects. Those, he knew only too well. "Again, I'm not sure _how_ he did it, but... Baldy kinda made me... empty? I-I don't know how to explain it, but... it was like I didn't have any thoughts other than what he let me. I was just kind of an empty puppet, but I could... feel... what the Inquisitor wanted me to do." Kanan frowned, and Ezra knew the Jedi was rapidly trying to figure out how such a thing would be possible. But soon he shook his head.

"I have a couple of theories, but right now, I want you to tell me this: why did the Inquisitor want to fight Vader?" Ezra's upper lip twitched.

"Because he wanted to be stronger in the Force. The Inquisitor... well, he wasn't in it for the power. Like I said, I kind of felt what he wanted. He... Baldy thought, that if he could sway me to his side, he'd have a chance against Vader. That's why I'm guessing he was so fixed on keeping me there. He thought that if he defeated Vader, he'd become a true Sith, and have more access to the Dark side of the Force, because he... liked it, I guess?" Kanan nodded.

"The Dark side of the Force can be... alluring." Kanan's eyebrows furrowed once again. "There's... something else."

"When you were..." he gave a wide gesture to the medical equipment behind him, "recuperating, I felt something. Like... something major happened in the Force." He frowned.

"With what you just told me... I'm thinking that Baldy might have tried going against Vader himself. And lost." Ezra took in a deep breath. The Inquisitor... dead? Ezra just... he seemed to have spent forever with the Pau'an, the concept of him not being there anymore just seemed... foreign. And yet it felt so good. If the Inquisitor was dead, they had lost one of their major obstacles in preforming jobs for the Rebellion. More than that, though... Ezra's tormenter would have gone. There would be no repeats. No new nightmare. Without the Inquisitor to hunt down after him, Ezra no longer felt hunted. Without a Sith wanna-be on his trail for the rest of his life just felt... cleansed.

"I... that's good. Really good." Kanan smiled slightly.

"And this is another reason why I don't care in the slightest if you gave up or not. What you just said proves to me that whatever you may have done, you still came back to the right side of things. Without me there to smack you across the head, you still ended up going against the Inquisitor in the end. That's what really matters to me... not that you _lost_ hope, but that you _gained_ it. That shows me your true character."

"Kanan, I-... thanks." He just shook his head, smiling. If anything, that was probably what Ezra had missed the most about the Jedi; the fact that he would always be there for him. And not just Kanan, but the rest of the crew... Hera, in her constant prowl for anything wrong with her charges. Sabine, knowing him inside and out, ready to prank alongside him. Zeb, the Lasat a (grouchy) friend to lean on. And Chopper, who provided... comic relief? It didn't matter. Ezra was back with his crew.

He was back with his family.

* * *

***wipes away tears* I love fluff so much! :D**

**Honestly, I was just thinking of ending this story here... but then I took a look at all of your reviews, asking about Vader going after Kanan and Ezra, and I audibly went 'hmm...'**

**However, that story ark I think I want to be presented in the form of a sequel. Abducted's main theme was the Inquisitor capturing Ezra. Now that that's over, having Vader also hunt them down would just kind seem like I wanted to drag out this story for as long as I could. So, I'll have one more chapter to Abducted to wrap it all up, and then later on down the line I'll make another story featuring _Vader's_ part to play in all this. **

**That'll let me pre-write again, so I can deliver beginning chapters at the same pace I did before, and it'll allow me to focus primarily on Vader and how he works and operates. Because I'll be honest, writing for a character like Vader is hard... he's just so epic, cool, awesome, whatever word you want to describe him with that you really need to think: 'Am I doing him enough justice? Would he actually say something like this?'**

**So, yeah. One more chapter in Abducted, then I think this story will come to a close. *sniffs*. Don't worry though, the thoughts you guys put into my head will _definitely_ be typed out and delivered, just in the form of another story.**

**SO: onto the next segment, ay?**


	35. A Family That Can't be Messed with

**Okay. End chapter. *sniff*. This is really gonna make me sad, finishing this up. But it has to be done.**

**Just one thing before I get started. I want to thank each and every one of you, from the bottom of my heart. I came to this site just hoping to contribute in any way I could to Rebels, and you guys just... you all supported me so much, and gave such good feed-back, I couldn't be happier. Thank you all, so so so much, thank you.**

**Disclaimer: Rebels, if it was in my possession, would contain twice as much fluff as it already does.**

* * *

"Oh no."

"What's wrong, Ezra?"

"I just remembered. I don't have my gear."

"Your- ooooh..."

"Yeah. My sling-shot, my tools... lucky I still got this, though." And Ezra pulled the Jedi rebreather out of his pocket. He had long since kept the piece of metal safely away from Chip and the Inquisitor, even when he hadn't been in control of his body.

Kanan blinked, surprised to see the little device again. "You kept that?"

"Of course! This was instrumental in not just one, but_ two_ escape attempts. I wouldn't trade this thing in for a million credits. Well, maybe a million, but for anything lower I'd keep this thing. It saved my skin twice, you know."

"Yeah, you already told us those stories." Sabine chuckled in the corner. The Mandalorian had been tickled pink when she heard that her one-time paint session with Ezra had been what had enabled the teen to escape from his cell, Zeb and Hera likewise pleased when he'd told them about how their lessons had helped him.

The crew was lounging about in the main room of the _Ghost_, having no mission to go on at the moment. It had been two standard months since Ezra's rescue, and by this time his broken bones had healed nicely. There had been a big tearful moment when he moved back into his cabin, a certain Lasat hiding his relief at having his bunk-mate back with moans at how much he'd miss his privacy.

The crew had yet had to go back to Axle for a mission, the sum of credits they had amassed had been so vast. Instead, they had devoted their free time to catching up with one another, offering one another their stories and reactions, simply glad to be able to do so once again. Except for right now, though, Ezra hadn't realized the absence of his most prized possessions.

"Well, next time we find ourselves in the market, we can get you some new gear and stuff."

"Can't wait. This kinda stuff just isn't my style," Ezra said, poking at the Imperial cadet's suit he was wearing. Due to the... pathetic state of his jump-suit, he hadn't really had much choice in clothing. The sooner they could replace his outfit and gear, the better.

"Gotta agree with you there, kiddo. Still, lucky you haven't grown an inch, huh? Otherwise you'd be fresh outa stuff to wear."

"Is it bad that I honestly can't tell is you're poking fun at me or not, Zeb?"

"How can you _not_ tell? I'm always pokin' fun at you."

Ezra shook his head, his smile crooked. Hera cocked her head. "He is right, though. Until we get your regular stuff fixed, I don't see you having to many options." Ezra shrugged his shoulders.

"Ezra..." The teen looked over to Kanan, mildly surprised to see the Jedi chewing his cheek.

"What's wrong, Kanan? I know this isn't the best of outfits, but it's really not that ba-"

"Not you outfit, dummy. I..." the older man looked at Hera, a question in his eyes. Something passed between the two of them, and when the Twi'lek nodded slightly, Kanan turned his focus back to Ezra. "If you want to, um," He scratched his head, but looked Ezra straight in the eyes.

"I think you'd be ready to build your own lightsaber."

Ezra's breath caught in his throat. Was Kanan offering... he could build a... a lightsaber?!

"The reason I was holding back for so long before was that I... I was afraid you'd get too attached to power. But if anything, what you've gone through showed me that that's not who you are more than ready for a lightsaber." Ezra's mouth was moving, but the words weren't coming out. Kanan must have misunderstood, because he quickly broke eye-contact and looked away awkwardly.

"Of course, if you don't want to, if you want to keep to your sling that's okay, it was just a suggestion, and you don-" Kanan was cut off as Ezra just about leaped out of his seat, wrapping Kanan in a quick hug. This meant too much to Ezra for him not to.

Kanan didn't care that Ezra had turned. He had accepted it. He though Ezra was ready to go to the next step of being a Jedi. For Ezra, that meant the world. No, the galaxy.

"So, where do we start?" Kanan smiled, and Ezra knew that the Jedi had felt his un-conveyed feelings.

"Well, there's a nice temple somewhere that'd be a good place to start..."

But Kanan's words hardly penetrated Ezra's numb haze of excitement. He really ought to pay attention, but the sheer amount of feelings that swirled around in his head was just too much. Everything was okay. The seemingly never-ending nightmare had been ripped to shreds by the ones who cared for him, and any sign that it had ever occurred was rapidly fading away.

A beep came out of Hera's communicator, and the group looked towards her questioningly. She grinned.

"Fulcrum's got a new mission for us." Ezra looked at Kanan, a grin slowly forming.

"What say you for being as much as a thorn in the Empire's side as possible, Master?" Zeb and Sabine both started wearing identical expressions of mischievous mayhem, which Ezra could feel creeping up on his own face. Everything was falling back into place.

"Let's go show those bucket-heads they can't mess with our family."

* * *

**And... that's the end. Anti-climactic, I know, but how could I end it with anything else? Everyone's back together, they're happy, life continues on. *Sigh*. I'm gonna miss writing this, though.**

**But worry not! Your reviews over Vader have inspired me to create a sequel, which hopefully I can deliver with just as much spunk and style as this one. I will be pre-writing a lot of it, just like I did with the first like... _half_ of this one, that way I can shoot out chapters fast like I did with Abducted. So it'll be a little while before I return, but never doubt that I _will_ return. Again, thank you all for your support, it really warms my heart.**

**I got a review asking for the name of the sequel, and I think I might call it 'The Nightmare Continues' or something like that. I don't know, but just keep an eye out for it, and I'll get it out as soon as physically possible.**

**SO! With a tearful farewell, I bid 'Abducted' adieu. It had a good run, and I can't thank you all enough for giving me the inspiration to finish it up with.**

**Read on! :)**


	36. Sequel!

**I just wanted to put in the news: the sequel is out!**

**It's called 'Deadly Intrigue,' and I think that a lot of you guys are gonna be liking the inclusion of a certain character... but here's a sneak peak of the first chapter, or you can go and find the story itself as well. Either way, enjoy! :D**

* * *

The rain made the ground slippery.

That, of course, was true for any planet. But the fallen leaves made for treacherously slippery ground, and the cloaked figure running across them knew that only too well.

Being pursued by at least twenty men in white armor, the figure didn't exactly have time to carefully choose their footing. The best they could do was run as fast as their long slender legs would allow, and curse whenever the foliage betrayed them. Other than that, there was no time for anything. The men chasing behind the figure were trained well, and their armor gave them more traction on the ground than the figure's own soft boots did.

A red blaster bolt hit a tree to the immediate right of the figure, and they slipped violently, only barely managing to stay on their feet. They _really_ didn't like the rain.

"Don't shoot to kill! Stun only!" _At least I've got that going for me._

The figure's breath was fast and erratic under their hood, and they knew they couldn't keep up the pace forever. But the soldiers behind them showed no signs of tiring, and they had ranged weapons. Over all, this was not an ideal situation for them to be in, especially since the only escape vehicle was miles and miles away. In the opposite direction. Heavily guarded. They would have groaned if it wouldn't have caused their breathing to distort even more.

This was just the perfect situation. Usually, the hooded figure's frequent recon missions went smoothly, even if their over-all goal failed. The figure hadn't been able to find a suitable time or place or anything else to help them high-jack the off-world transport the soldiers had for over a year, and since their own was broken, they were stuck here on the moon. Still, though, they had never been seen.

Until now.

The figure jumped over a fallen tree, long wet cloak slapping against their legs, and they realized: there might be a way out of this situation. This was the territory just a few miles from a huge cliff that fell to insane depths...if they could lure the stormtrooper there, it would prevent the Imperials stormtrooper circling around them and overwhelm them...

_Should I fight them? It might just be more troublesome for me later... but if I just eventually lose them they'll send out more search parties... they'll send out more search parties anyways._

_What do I do?_

* * *

**Once again, the full chapter is from 'Deadly Intrigue,' which has already been uploaded. Thanks!**


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